Betwixt Moments
by MoonHuntress7
Summary: Retelling of Hawke's story and her moments with Anders
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first story. Rated M for future content. All feedback is greatly appreciated. I will try to update as frequently as work and school (and muses) allow for.

Kattrin Hawke is mine, but BioWare owns everything else.

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><p>Carver stood in front of the closed door, arms crossed, before clearing his throat. When Mother and Uncle Gamlin continued their argument, oblivious to their presence, Carver glared at her. She didn't need to reach out with her senses to tell he was angry. But, then again, Carver was always angry.<p>

What exactly did he expect her to do? It had been a long day already. They had been kicked out of Bartrand's office, she'd been robbed, and they had met the roguish dwarf, Varric. Varric claimed that it was entirely possible to make fifty sovereigns to earn a partnership with Bartrand before he left for the Deep Roads. Convincing Bartrand to take her and Carver on as partners seemed like an impossible task but to earn fifty sovereigns to do it… If she had fifty sovereigns she wouldn't need to go to the Deep Roads.

Carver cleared his throat again, bringing her back to the hovel and the argument. The argument looked to be winding down as Gamlen threw his hands in the air and walked away from Mother. He growled, "Get out of my way!" as he barged between her and Carver to open the door and slam it on his way out. Her mother looked at them, sighed, and went to stand in her usual spot in front of the fireplace, looking into the fire. Deimos circled himself a few times and lay down with a tired "Whuff" now that the fighting was over.

Carver shook his head and motioned her into the other room. She followed, curious, as he closed the door behind her.

"They've been fighting over Grandfather's will. Mother wants to know what was in the will and Gamlen claims the will is locked up on the estate. I don't care about Mother's past, I've never lived here, but she gave me her old key hoping I'd stir something up."

She looked at her brother, who was looking down at his hands where he toyed with a metal object that caught the light of the single candle lighting the room. She and her brother almost never saw eye to eye, but if Mother wanted to find out what happened to her family and her wealth, she would try to do that for her. Mother had become dependent on the three of them after Father died, but she had become distant and morose in the year since Bethany's death. Sadness was all that Kattrin registered from her mother of late. If any small amount of happiness could be gained from finding Grandfather's will, then she would do it.

"I think that we should try to get it for her."

"It's not as easy as just walking in and taking it!"

She just looked at her brother until he calmed down. He always had a quick temper but his fuse was shorter than it used to be. Ever since Ostagar and everything that happened afterward.

"The estate was given to some slavers to pay off some debt of Gamlen's, so we can't just go in the front door. The key is for a back entrance somewhere in the sewers of Darktown."

"We can take out a few slavers. Braving Darktown might be something else entirely."

Her brother gave her a rare smile, but it was brief. "We should talk to Aveline. She might have a patrol down that way and we could use another sword."

"Agreed. But I would like to meet Varric at the Hanged Man for a drink, first. It's been a long day and Maker knows I could use one."

"You and me both, Sister."

The walk from Gamlen's home to the Hanged Man was short and, thankfully, uneventful. It was approaching evening and the Hanged Man was starting to fill up with guards, dock workers, and a few merchants. Knowing that Varric would be here, somewhere, she asked the bartender if he'd seen Varric Tethras.

"Who?" he asked before using his rag to wipe down a ceramic mug.

"Varric Tethras. Dwarf. Blonde hair pulled back, brown coat, red shirt open to show his chest hair, carrying a crossbow?"

Looking her in the eye with a straight face, he said, "Never heard of him."

Confused, she decided to look around. Why would the dwarf say that he was staying here if the bartender acted like he didn't know the dwarf? She had thought that the dwarf seemed honest in wanting them to help with the expedition but now she wasn't so sure.

She started to move further into the tavern, trying not to bump into people and failing. One man at a table asked her to bring him another ale. Another pinched her as she passed by him. Carver saw that and she grabbed his hand before he could grab his sword. She shook her head at him and continued moving through the crowded room. At the back, she found stairs leading up to the rooms. She hoped that she was heading in the right direction. If the dwarf was in the crowd, she didn't think that she would have much of a chance finding him. Not just because he was short, either.

Upstairs, there were no people. A hallway ran off and around a corner to her left, with three doors that she could see. Just in front of her was an archway to a large suite and the dwarf was sitting at a large table within. Sighing in relief, she stepped through the archway.

"Hawke! Come in and have a seat. Norah will be back in a moment to get you a drink."

As she and Carver sat down, Varric stood up, pacing, before leaning over the table.

"So, here's the thing: we need to find a way into the Deep Roads. Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we're down there, but we need a good entrance."

Norah came in and all three of them ordered a round of drinks. When she left, Hawke asked, "How do we do that? I've fought darkspawn, but I've never been to the Deep Roads."

"Fortunately, I've received some new information. There's a Grey Warden in the city. If anyone knows how to get down there, it'll be him."

"How can you be so sure? Why would a Grey Warden know that?"

"The Warden's don't just fight darkspawn; they forge into the Deep Roads all the time. And if he doesn't know, he might be able to point us to those that do."

"And _if_ he knows nothing? Are there any other options?"

Varric sighed. "None at the moment. Bartrand had an entrance lined up, but it was a bust. I'll keep looking, but if we don't find something, we'll have a fancy expedition with nowhere to go."

"I don't mess with the Wardens. And we don't want trouble with them, do we?"

"Err, let's look at our options first. I'd rather not fight a Warden unless we have to. Supposedly, this Grey Warden came in with some other Fereldan refugees not long ago. A Lowtown woman named Lirene has been helping the Fereldans. We talk to her, maybe we learn where he is. I'll keep after my contacts—see if I can drum up any other work."

Norah returned with their drinks, but Kattrin wasn't sure if she wanted to drink or vomit. The legends spoke of great heroes, defeaters of the Blights, tough men and women who gave up everything to defend the world from the Archdemons. The Grey Wardens weren't numerous in Ferelden, but a group had passed through Lothering on their way to Ostagar.

She remembered being on the road with Bethany about two years ago. She had been sent to pick up some things from the market and decided to bring Bethany since she was always better company than Carver. After they had purchased what Mother needed, they had stopped at the bakery, and while spending their own meager coin on a sweet cake for the walk home, they overheard that there was trouble brewing in Ostagar. Dark things were appearing, crops rotting in the fields, people going missing. She and Bethany had hurried out of town then. When dark things were discussed, Templars started to get twitchy and the hunt for apostates began. Kattrin had worked hard since her father died to make sure that she or Bethany never wound up in the Circle. Once on the road, they were vigilant but still in high spirits, sharing their sweet cake, when they heard others on the road behind them, gaining on them quickly.

Pausing on the side of the road, Kattrin looked behind them, reaching out with her senses. She knew they weren't Templars because Templars always wore heavy armor and felt of fear, anger, or righteousness. This was a motley group of maybe fifteen, some in leather, some in scale and some in plate. They were elves, dwarves and humans and they all felt of the same duty. Then, to her amazement, she saw two in the group wearing robes and carrying staves.

The group hailed her and her sister, asking if this road would take them to Ostagar. Withdrawing her extra sense, she had to try twice to tell them yes because her mouth was so dry. Every man carried themselves with wariness and skill, like some of the more frightening Templars who spun terrible tales of battles with apostates. As they began to move again down the road, she had blurted a question. Were they soldiers?

One of the mages had laughed at that, throwing his head back and practically howling his humor while most of his companions scowled. The leader, a bearded man with dark skin wearing strange leather armor with two wicked looking daggers strapped to his back, gave the mage a reproachful look. When he turned to her, he seemed kind beneath his gruff appearance. He replied that no, they were Grey Wardens, but they had important matters to attend in Ostagar and wished them a good day.

Bethany had spoken then, asking the Maker to watch over them and keep them safe. Each of them had a different response, but the responses all asked for the blessings of a deity. Then Kattrin had felt a shift, a gathering of Fade energy, making her eyes go wide. The mage with sense of humor noted Kattrin's expression and used the gathered mana to summon a wisp and direct it towards them. He winked at them as they passed, causing Bethany blush and a shiver to go down Kattrin's spine.

That same shiver running down her spine brought her back to the present. Both Varric and Carver were looking at her strangely, and she quickly apologized.

Varric turned to her brother and asked, "Is it normal for her to stare like that?"

"No, normally she's perfect," he groused.

With that, she stood up, glaring at her brother. "Excuse me if I don't relish the idea of disturbing a Grey Warden. I'm off to talk to Aveline. Now we have two reasons to go to Darktown and that extra sword is sounding better and better." She downed her drink and left her brother in Varric's company. She must have been glaring or baring her teeth because getting out of the Hanged Man was a lot easier than coming in. That was okay with her, both the ease in which she left and looking angry. Inside, she was knotted up with dread. She had the same sense of foreboding running through her that she had experienced when encountering the Witch of the Wilds. Like Fate was pushing her to Darktown.


	2. Chapter 2

Yesterday, her meeting with Aveline hadn't gone much better than the rest of her day. Aveline had been distracted and acted like Kattrin had just seen her when in truth she hadn't really seen Aveline in months. Aveline said that she had stepped on some toes and needed help with smugglers on the Wounded Coast. Kattrin had struck a deal that if Aveline helped her with the Warden in Darktown then she would be happy to help on the Wounded Coast. Aveline just seemed relieved to have something to do.

Stepping into Lirene's Ferelden Imports was like stepping off the boat last year. She didn't need her extra sense to feel the desperation radiating off the people crammed into the small space. People lined up to the counter, a few were bleeding from cuts or sores and most were underfed, their frames showing more bones than meat. A woman behind the counter with short, dark hair and a stern face shouted, "Will everyone please just step back!" That must be Lirene.

Walking up to the counter, Kattrin stood beside a panicked girl who was saying, "My mother's in labor! The baby's come early. Can anyone help her?"

Lirene signaled to a boy behind her. "Go with her and help the girl's mother get to the healer."

The boy signaled to another, older boy to join him. He then grabbed the girls' hand and led her out, asking where her mother was while the older boy followed.

Lirene looked at Kattrin. "If you're seeking aid, leave your name with my girl. We serve everyone here—no one came here from Fereldan without trouble. But I can't give priority to anyone who's already found work and lodging."

Kattrin tried to put on her most friendly face and said mildly, "I'm looking for someone. I hear you know where I can find a Ferelden Grey Warden."

"Only Fereldan Grey Warden I've heard of is sitting on the throne. We're out of the Blight's path now. Why would you need a Warden?" Lirene arched a brow, looking puzzled.

"The healer was one of them once, wasn't he? A Warden?" said the woman who was next in line.

"Well, he's not now. And busy enough without answering fool questions about it."

"Why so defensive? Who are you protecting?" Kattrin asked.

"You see what our people face in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes. Most can barely buy bread. This healer, he serves them without thought for coin. He's closed their wounds, delivered their children."

"And yet he needs to hide," added Aveline, concern on her face.

"He's a good man. I won't lose him to the blighted Templars."

"Lose him to the Templars? You mean he's a mage?" Kattrin was surprised. But surprise was quickly replaced by unease as her feeling of Fate grew stronger.

"Would I stick my neck out for some purveyor of hensbane and leeches?"

"Oh, perish the thought. Another delicate mage flower." Carver's tone was dripping sarcasm.

"He doesn't want to be locked in the Gallows just for using the gifts the Maker gave him."

"I mean him no harm. Your healer will be in no danger from me," Kattrin said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Right. Perfectly safe if he cooperates," added Carver.

Kattrin wanted to hit her brother, but Lirene continued speaking. Maybe she hadn't heard Carver's acidic comments.

"I suppose it isn't my secret to keep. Anders has certainly been free enough with his services. Refugees in Darktown know—to find the healer, look for the lit lantern. If you have need enough, Anders will be within."

As they left Lirene's Fereldan Imports, a group of ragtag men were scattered among the market stalls, looking menacing. She groaned. Today was definitely not going better than yesterday.

"Hey!" The leader of the group pointed a Kattrin. "We heard you in there. Asking questions about the healer. We know what happens to mages in this town. And it ain't gonna happen to him."

She didn't like being caught out in the open market, where anyone would see her casting spells. To have her hands tied against using magic made her feel helpless. Thankfully, Carver stepped between Kattrin and the men. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't draw his sword. "You want him safe? Don't pick fights with Fereldans while the Templars are after us all!"

The man appeared surprised. "Fereldan? But… You, your clothes… I figured you for a Kirkwaller. Sorry." He then bowed to them and said, "Maker bless the rule of our King Alistair."

The tension slowly leaked from her party and she noticed that even though Carver hadn't drawn his sword, Aveline had. And Varric had Bianca out and loaded. Kattrin fought to keep her disappointment off her face. Truly, she was touched that they would so readily defend her, but she didn't need them stirring more trouble. Still a little on edge, they headed down the steps from Lowtown to Darktown. The Undercity.

The smell was nauseating. There was the immediate smell of human and elf waste followed by the acrid smell of too many unwashed bodies. Beneath that was the musty smell of rats and other vermin. And underneath it all was the smell of decay. It left Kattrin reeling.

The reality of Darktown was heart rending. People huddled in make-shift tents and alcoves or huddled over small and smoky fires. Filthy children huddled in groups, most likely orphans. The few elves she saw glared at her and the other humans. In less lighted areas, eyes and weapons glinted. They moved cautiously through the dimly lit bowels of Kirkwall. The slow pace allowed them to stay vigilant to any sign of attack as well as avoid putrid piles of waste. Varric was muttering under his breath about loving nothing about the Undercity.

Turning left around a corner, they spotted a lit lantern over a pair of closed doors. They turned in that direction, going down a flight of steps only to go up another flight of steps to the landing in front of the doors.

To the left of the clinic there was solitary door. This caught Carver's attention. As he approached the door he became agitated, and motioned her over to show her the small Amell crest on the wall next to the door.

"Well, this looks like the place. If the cellars go this far, maybe we were important," he said, turning to her.

She looked at him. "We'll go in, but let's deal with the Warden first. Disturbing a Grey Warden might be unpleasant and hazardous to our health. I would like to get it over and done with."

She looked then at Varric and said, "I'm worried he won't help us."

Varric smiled. "Don't worry yet, Hawke. Bianca will let us know if there's trouble."

She shook her head, walking toward the clinic. She wasn't quite used to the dwarf talking about his crossbow as a she, or as a person. Before she reached the door, she felt someone drawing from the Fade. The Warden, _the mage,_ was inside and working with a large amount of mana, but she sensed more. Fade spirits. He must be a spirit healer, then.

As she opened the door, she saw him. His face was drawn with concentration and from this far she could see the sweat running down his face and darkening his blond hair. He had strange robes held together with gold rings and blue-green pauldrons with ragged white feathers. His hands worked the blue glow of healing over a boy while the boy's worried parents watched. It was hard not to tap into the Fade herself to lend a hand.

Just then the pull of the Fade got stronger and she watched the mage close his eyes and grit his teeth. He was faltering. She took two quick steps into the room, drawing from the Fade as she went, but then the boy sat up, gasping, and his mother rushed to hold him, crying. She let go of mana she was pulling, letting it slip back into the Fade. The mage stumbled but the boy's father steadied him. The mage leaned heavily on a nearby pillar, his back to her. The father was thanking him and giving the mage a final pat on the back before he and his family walked past Kattrin and her group, and out the door.

She had started walking towards the mage again when she suddenly stopped, just a few feet away from him, sensing danger and another Fade spirit.

The mage grabbed the staff leaning against the same pillar and quickly spun to face them. His palm was out as he assumed a defensive stance, his staff glowing with the mana he held.

"I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation! Why do you threaten it?" His voice wasn't normal, containing a strange reverberation. The presence of the Fade spirit was stronger.

Warily, she said, "I mean you no harm. I'm just here to talk." She pushed down the urge to draw mana from the Fade. He would sense it, and it might provoke him to attack.

Varric pitched in, saying, "We're interested in getting into the Deep Roads. Rumor has it you were a Warden. Do you know a way?"

He shifted out of his stance and put away his staff, but he still watched them warily. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat! Poor Ser Pounce-a-Lot. He hated the Deep Roads." His voice lacked the reverberation from earlier and she no longer sensed any Fade spirits. She found herself looking at him more closely. He had a melodic voice, soothing and a bit sultry. He had short, blond hair half tied back, kind, light brown eyes, straight eyebrows, a bold but narrow and straight nose, wide cheeks, a tapered chin, dark blonde stubble, and full lips.

Giving herself a mental shake, she processed what he had just said. Wait. What?

Before she could stop herself, she asked, "Ser Pounce-a-Lot? You had a cat named Ser Pounce-a-Lot? In the Deep Roads?"

The mage, _Anders_, became defensive. "He was a gift. A noble beast." His tone changed and he smiled a little, "Almost got ripped in half by a genlock once. He swatted the bugger on the nose. Drew blood, too." Then he grew defensive again. "The blighted Wardens said he 'made me too soft.' I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine."

"What are you doing here? So, you came to Kirkwall just to escape the Wardens?"

His eyes narrowed. "You say that like it's a small thing. Yes, I'm here because there's no Warden outpost, no darkspawn, and a whole host of refugees to blend in with." He paused. "And some reasons of my own."

"Can people leave the Wardens? I've always heard that joining the Wardens is for life."

"That's only partly true. The 'hopelessly tainted by the darkspawn' and 'plagued by nightmares of the Archdemon' parts don't go away. But it turns out if you hide well, you don't have to wear the uniform or go to the parties." His eyes danced with merriment and he gave that small smile again.

His levity somehow brought her back on track to gain his help for the expedition. "I want your help," she said. "I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads. Any information you have could save people's lives."

"I will die a happy man if I never think of the blighted Deep Roads again," he said bitterly. "You can't imagine what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested…" He paused, crossing his arms. "Although… A favor for a favor. Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you?"

She was reminded of the deal that she had made with Aveline yesterday. But she felt Fate's pull, or push, again. She imagined herself standing on a precipice, preparing herself to jump. She pushed the thought away before answering him.

"Yes. Help my expedition reach the Deep Roads and I'll do whatever you need."

"You don't ask for my terms? What if I were asking for the Knight-Commander's head on a spike?" He seemed serious.

Concerned, she asked, "Is that what you ask?"

Non-committedly, he replied, "You decide," before continuing. "I have a Warden map of the depths in the area. But there's a price." He turned, starting to pace away from her. "I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend. A mage. A prisoner in the wretched Gallows." He turned toward her again, looking so worried and concerned that it pulled at her heart. "The Templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them, and you shall have your maps."

She knew that she would regret asking this, and she hated herself for doing so, but she had to know. "Help him escape the Circle? You want to make your friend an apostate?"

He sneered at her. "That's such a weighted term. Yes, Andraste said that magic should serve man, not rule him. But I've yet to find a mage who wanted to rule anything. It goes against no will of the Maker for mages to live free as other men."

She breathed a sigh of relief before continuing. "Mages need their freedom. Forcing mages into servitude isn't the way to prevent the rise of another Imperium."

He smiled at her, genuinely and happily surprised. "That's not usually the response I get. Perhaps we will work together better than I expected."

"Who is this mage? Tell me about your friend."

"His name is Karl Thekla. He was sent here from Fereldan when Kirkwall's Circle required new talent. His last letter said that the Knight-Commander was turning the Circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cells, refused appearances at court, made Tranquil for the slightest crimes. I told him that I would come."

She felt a shiver go down her spine. The Right of Tranquility always did that to her. It made her sweat with cold dread. She wiped her now damp palms on the pants she wore under her chainmail skirting.

She swallowed before continuing. "The Circle, a prison? Are these accusations true?"

"Ask any mage in Kirkwall. Over a dozen were made Tranquil just this year. The more people you ask, the worse the rumors become."

This time she physically shivered before wiping the sweat off her palms. She and her family had been on the run for so long she didn't think there was even a remote chance of being thrown into the Circle. Being made Tranquil would be the most likely outcome if the Templars ever caught up to her.

She could feel him watching her. He must have noticed her reaction, but if he did then he gave no sign. She hadn't given him any indication that she was a mage, unless he felt her briefly pulling mana to assist him. But growing up hiding the magic of herself, her sister, and her father ingrained in her a self-preservation so strong that she couldn't even show another mage what she was. Not until she was certain of her safety.

"What is your plan? How do you plan to break him out of the Gallows?"

"I'm hoping it won't come to that. I sent Karl a message to meet me in the Chantry tonight. Maker willing, he's there, alone. But if there are Templars with him, I swear, I'll free him from them. Whatever the cost."

She felt Fate's pull yet again. Of course he would have planned this for tonight because Fate had already placed her here. She believed in the Maker well enough but never considered herself to be religious. But right here and now, she believed in the Maker's plan. She was just a stray leaf being pulled through turbulent waters. "How did the Templars find out? What do the Templars know of your plans?"

"I don't know. I had been exchanging notes with Karl through a maidservant in the Gallows. Then the letters stopped coming." His worry and concern pulled on her heart again.

She had always been soft hearted, wanting to help everyone. Her father said she took after him in that respect but had cautioned that she needed to learn she couldn't help everyone. But, with both her father and Bethany gone, she was the only mage in her family that she risked with her decision. Her need to help this man, this mage, outweighed all her previous wishes to help others. And she suddenly felt like she could trust him. "I help all my fellow mages. I would help any mage in such circumstances, map or no."

She felt Carver's eyes bore into her back. Well, it was too late. The mage was out of the bag.

"Better make this good. We're risking a lot if we anger the Templars," Carver spat at her.

"I welcome your aid," Anders breathed in relief. "I've already sent word for Karl to meet me in the Chantry tonight. Join us there, and we will ensure that no matter who is there with him, we will all walk away free."

Before she could say anything else, two boys came through the door, walking as quickly as they dared with a litter between them, carrying a woman in the throes of labor. Following them was the girl from Lirene's Fereldan Imports.

Anders seemed to have already dismissed them. He sent the younger boy for hot water and the older boy for clean rags and cloths as he was summoning spirits from the Fade to aid his healing. But as she and her group turned to leave, he called, "Until tonight."

They exited the clinic and turned towards the door leading to the Amell estate. Kattrin estimated that they had enough time to dispose of the slavers in her mother's ancestral home and search for Grandfather's will before they met Anders at the Chantry. She waited in front of the door for Carver to produce the key. She could tell that he was mad at her; whether for sticking her neck out for a fellow mage or the possibility of angering the Templars that they worked so hard to avoid each and every day, she wasn't sure. He stood there, hands balled up at his sides, staring at the wall while his breathing caused his nostrils to flare. Aveline pulled her sword out of her scabbard and started to examine the blade for nicks. Varric hummed a tune under his breath. It wasn't anything she had heard before.

After what seemed like forever, Carver produced the key from his coin pouch. The lock was old and a little rusted and it sounded like a dying animal as Carver turned the key. She was silently hoping that the slavers hadn't heard it when Varric said, "Okay, bad guys, I hope the noise gave you enough warning 'cause we're coming in!"


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't want to go to the Chantry tonight. The Void take her if she missed helping the only other mage she'd had a conversation with besides her family, but the challenges that she'd had today made yesterday seem like a walk in the park. She had dark thoughts on what the rest of the night had in store for her.

Carver mentioned that the Amell estate was the new base for slavers in Kirkwall. They didn't anticipate how large a base it was. The four of them must have killed at least twenty slavers. Carver had taken a sword just below his ribs. Varric had taken a direct blast of ice from the slaver mage. And Aveline had taken a thrown dagger in the leg and had nearly bled out before Kattin could heal her.

The will they obtained showed that everything Grandmother and Grandfather owned had been intended for Mother. When she and Carver returned home, Mother and Uncle Gamlen had been arguing again, this time about money. The revelation of the will had made Mother happy that her parents had forgiven her but had caused Gamlen to cower. When confronted by Kattrin, he informed her that at least he'd gotten the money. Her mother had taken up her place in front of the fireplace and spoke of how she wanted to share this with all her children. How much she missed Bethany and all she could think about was the horrible monster that had taken her from them.

Carver had been Carver, but he'd made the knife in her heart go deeper by telling her that she could have saved Bethany from the ogre. She had agreed with him, to Carver's surprise.

Kattrin ached, body, heart, mind and soul. Her body and mind ached from the battle and the casting of so many spells. Her heart and soul still bled from the loss of her sister, so kind and sweet, and the only mage friend Kattrin had ever had.

Finishing her drink, she wearily she stood from their table and Carver, Varric, and Aveline mimicked her. Varric paid their tab and they left the Hanged Man. Strangely, they didn't meet any thugs or brigands before they reached the long stairs. Together, they ascended from Lowtown to Hightown.

Hightown was also empty and quiet. There was no friendly banter. No banter at all, really. They were all on alert for Templars, observing the streets as they progressed. Only Aveline dared to break the silence as she greeted fellow guards as they made their way to the Chantry.

Kattrin spotted Anders at the top of the stairs leading to the Chantry. He waited until they reached him before quietly saying, "I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No Templars so far. Are you ready?"

Trying not to sound as nervous as she felt, she said, "Yes. I didn't see anyone suspicious out here. Let's do this fast."

The Chantry doors were large, gaudy gold things but they swung open easily and silently. The foyer had hundreds of candles to either side, stinking of tallow regardless of the burning incense. The flames danced as the doors shut. She felt both awe and disgust at the grandeur of Kirkwall's Chantry. The Chantry at Lothering could have fit inside thrice over. At the end of the room, on a raised dais and standing three or four stories tall, was the largest gold statue of Andraste that Kattrin had ever seen. But, even with the largess, the Chantry was the house of the Maker and she offered a mute prayer for Him to watch over them.

The Chantry was empty and there were no signs of Templars. Feeling jumpy, she looked at Anders to take the lead but he stayed behind her, looking at nothing while clenching his jaw and rubbing the back of his neck. Kattrin touched his shoulder to get his attention but this caused him to start. She looked at her other companions but they just looked grim and determined. She wondered briefly if this was something dark that only mages picked up on. Shaking herself mentally, she led the five of them further into the Chantry and up the stairs to the right.

Turning right from the landing she saw a lone figure with grey hair and wearing grey robes standing with his back to them. Anders moved ahead of the group but before he could reach him, the man in the robes spoke. "Anders. I know you too well. I knew you would never give up." His voice was deadpan, empty.

Anders voice rose in pitch, asking, "What's wrong? Why are you talking like—"

The man, Karl, turned to face Anders and all Kattrin could see was the Chantry's sunburst on his forehead, like an angry, red eye. All sound ceased to reach her and the rest of the world fell away, leaving the symbol of the Rite of Tranquility to fill her vision. Her heart and breathing stilled as she became entombed in eternity with her greatest fear.

The moment passed, returning Kattrin to the present, as Karl continued speaking. "I was too rebellious. Like you. The Templars knew that I had to be… made an example of."

"No!" That single denial from Anders lips was sorrow and loss delivered in sound.

Karl continued, immune to Anders devastation. "How else will mage's ever master themselves? You'll understand, Anders. As soon as the Templars teach you to control yourself."

Kattrin's heart began pounding as she heard the distinct sound of men in full plate. Eyes wide, palms sweating she turned to see three Templars approaching them. She looked at Carver and found that he was looking at her grimly. Everything they had done for her whole life was all for naught if the Templars caught her now, especially if she was found in the company of another apostate. She would get the brand for sure, just like Karl. _No._ She reached for her staff. The Templars weren't going to take her without a fight. Carver was thinking the same thing, hand angled over his shoulder gripping his sword.

Karl gestured to Anders. "This is the apostate."

Kattrin's skin tingled as she strongly felt the Fade. She saw a flash of blue light but wasn't sure where it originated. She was busy watching the Templars advance on them.

"NO!" The shouted denial drew her attention away from the Templars to see Anders on his knees, holding his head and shaking. She knew that the Templars were still approaching but she couldn't take her eyes off of Anders. She didn't think it possible but her sense of the Fade grew even stronger and she could almost _see_ the Fade radiating off of Anders. Then, brilliant blue light exploded from Anders, cracking his skin. He stood, sweeping his arms behind him and glaring at the Templars. When he spoke, it wasn't his voice but a stronger version of the reverberating voice that she had heard in the clinic upon meeting him.

"You will never take another mage as you took him!"

Kattrin's attention shifted to the attacking Templars. One of them launched himself at her but before she could retreat Carver was there, yelling about how they did things in Fereldan as he attacked. She focused on the battle, sending ice at this Templar, a fireball to the two Templar archers out of the melee, healing Varric when he wasn't able to fully dodge the Templars blade. She knew that Anders was fighting the Templars but only because of the additional spells being cast.

More Templars showed up, running into the fray. One of the Templars broke away from Aveline and Carver and attempted to hit Kattrin with his shield. She spun away from him but she wasn't fast enough. When the Templar failed to connect with his shield, he swung out with his sword and sliced through the flesh of her shoulder. She gasped at the pain and dropped her staff. She tried to summon ice to immobilize the Templar but her spell failed to take form. Maker save her. This was her second fight today and she was exhausted. Concentrating, she tried to call the ice spell again but it just wouldn't come. She suddenly realized that she could barely sense the Fade, let alone draw any energy from it.

Varric was too far away from her and Aveline and Carver each had two Templars to contend with. She had no idea where Anders was. She sent a silent apology to Carver and calmly closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

Kattrin heard the crackle of lightning as it raised the hair on her arms and the small of her neck. She opened her eyes to see the Templar sprawled on the ground, his armor charred and smoking. Anders was looking at her and she noticed that his eyes were blue glowing orbs flashing as brightly as the blue light cracking through his skin. That eerie, reverberating voice said, "Do not falter, mage. The Templars will feel justice this day."

She continued to stand there, trying to staunch the flow of bleeding from her arm, stunned.

Suddenly, the fight was over. All of the Templars who attacked were dead. Varric seemed to have avoided additional harm but Aveline was bleeding from several places and favoring her shield arm and Carver was holding his hand to his left side.

"I—Anders, what did you do?" Karl asked. He sounded panicked, not vacant. "It's like… you brought a piece of the Fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like."

Anders was no longer glowing as he stood looking at his friend. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

Kattrin was stunned at seeing a Tranquil panic. She couldn't stop herself from questioning this miracle. "But you're Tranquil. I thought that the Tranquil were cut off from the Fade forever."

"When you're Tranquil, you never think of your life before. But it's like the Fade itself is inside Anders. Burning like a sun."

Kattrin had noticed that herself but she didn't understand how it affected the Tranquil. She was also too tired to give it any real consideration. Later, she would need to look into this further.

Karl became agitated. "Please, kill me before I forget again. I don't know how you brought it back but it's fading."

"Karl, no—" Anders choked.

Kattrin looked at Anders. His eyes still glistened. Her heart broke for both Anders and Karl. She didn't understand what they had had together but it was obvious they were very close. But if it were her she would beg Anders, or anyone, to kill her too. Being made Tranquil was her greatest fear. Anders was a mage. Surely he felt the same way?

"Do as he asks," she said softly. "I would rather die than be made Tranquil. Help him."

"I got here too late. I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry." Anders appeared to wilt. He sagged and a single tear escaped, running down his cheek to disappear into his stubble.

"Now! It's fading…," he cried. Then his voice changed, becoming empty once more. "Why do you look at me like that?"

Taking a deep, pained breath, Anders drew a knife from his belt. He stepped close to Karl, almost touching chest to chest. "Goodbye," Anders said. The steel and resolve in his voice hurt Kattrin more than his sadness. Anders then drove his knife upward through Karl's ribs, to his heart. Karl gasped as he died.

Anders turned to her. She was surprised to see that except for his hand, he had no blood on him. "We should go before more Templars come," he said. Then he turned from her and started towards the Chantry's exit. Letting go of her injured arm, she bent to retrieve her staff from the floor.

Standing, she saw that Anders was already at the stairs. "Anders, wait," she called. He paused, standing at the top of the stairs, looking toward the door. "Can you heal Aveline and Carver?" She had no choice in her request. Her connection to the Fade was still there but it was hard to draw energy from it. She might be able to heal some bruises, but sealing flesh was beyond her in her current state.

He nodded and made his way to Aveline. She was so disconnected that she could barely feel him draw on the Fade as soft blue light of healing encircled Aveline. Anders stepped around the dead Templars to reach Carver and repeat the process. The healing seemed to restore Anders from the cold, resolute man who killed his friend to the mage she met in the clinic in Darktown.

Carver glared at her as they left the Chantry but he didn't say anything. Varric said that killing Templars makes him thirsty and invited everyone for a drink at the Hanged Man. Carver said that he could do with some drinking but Aveline said that she had duty in a few hours and would needed what little sleep she could get. Anders didn't speak. Kattrin was too tired to deal with the Hanged Man and said nothing. Aveline set off towards the Viscount's Keep and the barracks within. Carver and Varric headed toward the stairs leading to Lowtown. This left her and Anders standing in the Chantry courtyard, near the Chanter's board.

Anders turned to her. He was about a hand taller than her and thin, but his broad shoulders and muscular arms weren't hidden by his robes or his feathered pauldrons. He cut a handsome figure.

"Let me walk you home," he said. She nodded her ascent and they moved away from the Chanter's board.

They walked in silence. Anders was lost in his thoughts and Kattrin was too tired to hold a conversation. She didn't want to intrude on his sorrow but she also didn't want to think about his Tranquil friend. It hit too close to home.

Instead, she found herself enjoying the cool, gentle breeze, the expanse of glittering stars above, and the peaceful quiet. She had pleasant company for once. Well, maybe not exactly pleasant but certainly not unpleasant. If Carver hadn't gone off to the Hanged Man, she was sure that he would be yelling at her, arguing with her, or just complaining. The healer was the opposite with his calming presence. He seemed to be a gentle soul, compassionate towards others. And he was handsome. She found herself being drawn to him. She knew that part of his pull on her was just simply his being a mage but she wondered if maybe there was something more between them.

Exiting Hightown, she found herself looking at him more frequently. The night air had a replenishing effect on her and she found herself wondering about his connection to the Fade. As a Spirit healer herself, she knew that the Fade contained more than just demons. Her father had little to teach her in regards to Spirit healing itself, but he had taught her that mages with her talent were able to call other spirits to their aid in healing someone. Mostly spirits of compassion due to the virtue they embodied. But he had cautioned her to always be on her guard. Demons could appear to be anyone and would pretend to be helpful. Did Anders have a connection to a spirit? A demon? She was ignorant to some aspects of magic due to growing up as an apostate. Her father had been a Circle mage and taught both her and Bethany everything he knew. But he had told Kattrin he wondered sometimes if they would benefit from Circle training, especially Kattrin, because her magic talent differed from his own. He didn't want that for his children, but he had explained to her that he had many different teachers in the Circle and wondered at their education at his hands. Maybe Anders could teach her more about being a Spirit healer?

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed when he stopped in the empty market. He cleared his throat, gaining her attention. He was watching her with his small smile, making her blush and fluster.

"I… I'm sorry, I was just thinking," she stammered. "I guess you're waiting for me to show you the way. It's not like you've been to my home before. Not that I don't want you to visit." Okay, she was going to shut up now.

He continued to smile at her, his eyes dancing with merriment. Her breath caught. He was stunning with his warm brown eyes and crooked smile standing there in the empty Lowtown market under the starlight. As she continued to stare, he arched an eyebrow. "Did I grow another head? Perhaps a third eye?"

Now she was blushing straight down to her toes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I live over this way." She turned quickly and started walking before really looking and ran her injured shoulder into a merchant's cart. She hissed in pain and suddenly Anders was at her back, turning her around to face him. He gently wrapped both of his hands around her elbow and forearm while he examined where the Templar's sword caught her shoulder.

"This is a deep cut. Why didn't you say anything?"

She looked at him, her face a mere handsbreath from his. His handsome face filled her vision. She tried twice before she could speak. "I asked you to heal Carver and Aveline because I couldn't at the time. I forgot about my own injury. But I would have healed it myself once my strength returned."

There was a click as he clenched his jaw and gave her a disapproving frown. Then he sighed, softly releasing her arm and stepping away from her. "I can't heal you here. Follow me to my clinic."

It wasn't a question but more of a pleading command. Now that she had re-opened her injury it hurt like the Void. She felt blood begin to trickle down her arm and even though she might have regained enough mana to heal it herself, she had questions for Anders. She followed him.

Leading her into and through Darktown, he never took his eyes off her for very long. The concern written on his face every time he looked at her made her heart flutter. She knew that it was because of him being a healer, but she found his concern and gentle demeanor irresistible.

When they arrived at the dead end demarking his clinic, he used the tiniest bit of magic to relight the lantern. Grasping her lightly by her uninjured arm, he led her into the clinic and onto a cot before closing the door.

As he began rooting around for a clean rag and some water, she looked around the clinic. There was debris pushed to the walls of the structure with crates and barrels placed where ever they wouldn't be in the way. She hadn't noticed before but the entire clinic was spotless, no signs of dirt or mold or rats, and it smelled of fresh herbs. There were four small windows set high in the wall showing brief scenes of stars. Below the windows were planters filled with herbs and she recognized elfroot from where she sat. If he was growing elfroot, surely he was growing deep mushrooms as well? Ah, yes, he was; in the corner of the building, furthest away from any light, sat a planter with white and grey mushroom tops.

He returned to her then, sitting on a low stool in front of the cot she occupied. He had a clean rag in a bowl of steaming water at his feet. He examined her shoulder with the lightest of touches. Then he looked her over. "We're going to have to remove your armor."

Sighing, she started by awkwardly using her other hand to undo the belt she wore over her chainmail. She allowed him to help her release the straps for the chainmail she wore over a padded, long sleeved tunic. Removing the tunic caused a jolt of pain in her shoulder, causing her to hiss again. Anders maneuvered her good arm out of the sleeve and lifted the fabric over her head before halting his progress. The other sleeve was adhered to her skin from dried blood and removing it was a slow process. She awkwardly held the padded fabric with her good arm while Anders worked with the wet rag to separate her armor from the fissure in her skin. Once he freed the cloth from her wound, he took her bunched up tunic from her to remove it carefully from the rest of her arm and gently laid it on the floor. Sitting in just her leggings, boots and breast-band she was trying to keep her embarrassment to herself. She shivered, gooseflesh covering her. It was cold in the clinic.

Anders jumped up to add more wood and stoke the two fires burning in the clinic. Once they were both blazing, he washed his hands and grabbed a blanket off another cot seated next to the only piece of furniture—a desk.

He draped the blanket across her good shoulder, leaving the injured one uncovered, and settled again on his stool. The blanket was soft and warm and smelled of herbs and man. Her heart sped up. He had brought her the blanket from his bed.

Before that thought could go further, she sensed him drawing mana from the Fade. He enveloped them both in a blue healing light. Her pain vanished and she felt the skin of her arm tingling and itching as his magic sealed her wound. The blue light dwindled and went out all together as he let go of the mana he was holding. Picking up the wet rag, he wiped away the remaining blood to reveal pale flesh. She didn't even have a scar.

He searched her face as he asked, "Was that the only wound you received?"

"Yes."

Satisfied with her answer, he nodded. His shoulders sagged and he ran his fingers across his forehead. Kattrin had so many questions but he was obviously drained. He dropped his hand and sighed before looking at her. "I'm sorry that you were hurt while helping me."

"I meant what I said about helping mages." She reached out with her healed arm to run her hand from his feathered shoulder down his arm to linger on his hand. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thank you." His voice was kind, but hollow. Her heart went out to him. She squeezed his hand briefly, trying to offer him some comfort.

"I'm here if you need to talk."

"That's kind of you." His eyes were dark in the low light as he searched her face again. "You are a rare person to offer help to someone you just met."

She smiled at him. "I think I mentioned I help mages."

Kattrin was rewarded with that small smile of his, but only briefly.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation."

"I do have some questions," she admitted, "but I'll understand if you're tired." She gave his hand another squeeze before placing her hand in her lap.

"No, it's fine. I need to observe you for a few hours, so we're not going anywhere for the moment. Let me make some tea." He stood and filled a pot with water and dried leaves before setting it over the fire.

Instead of returning to his stool, he stood leaning his backside on the desk, arms crossed. He was braced, waiting for her to begin.

"In the Chantry, it felt like you drew on a Fade spirit."

His eyes widened. "You know of Fade spirits?"

"A little. My talent lies in Spirit healing but I haven't received any training. Everything I have learned has been on my own," she admitted, sheepishly.

"I… This is hard to explain. When I was Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside of the Fade. We became friends. And he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas face every day."

"A spirit trapped outside the Fade? Is that even possible? No, please don't answer that. I'm sorry." She took a deep breath. "Your spirit of justice sounds like a useful friend to have."

He uncrossed his arms and looked down at his feet. "He was far better to me than I have been to him. To live outside the Fade, he needed a host. I offered to help him… We were going to work together, bring justice to every child ever ripped away from his mother to be sent to the Circle. But… I guess I had too much anger. Once he was inside me, he… changed. I thought I was helping my friend. He would have… died, I guess. If that even means anything. And he wanted to help me. He knew what mages have suffered. But my anger… when I see Templars now, things that have always outraged me but I could never do anything about… He comes out. And he is no longer my friend Justice. He is a force of vengeance. And he has no grasp of mercy." His shoulders slumped and he looked like a lost little boy.

His description reminded her of her father's descriptions of abominations. But he'd been very clear that abominations were the result of demon possession. The drawings she had seen of abominations showed figures with clumps of putrid flesh and claws or figures of living fire. Anders didn't appear to be possessed. He was kind and gentle and seemed in control now. In the Chantry, though, he had lost control.

"Can you undo this? Can Justice ever be separated from you?"

"I don't think so. The only way a spirit has ever been separated from a living host is by its death. The curse is of my own making. All I can do now is hope to control it."

"Can you control it? Can you bring him out at will?"

"No. He comes only when I've lost all power over myself. It's a madness, a frenzy. I only find out after what I might have done."

A silence stretched between them. She didn't really know this man, this mage. Was he dangerous? She looked around the clinic and remembered him healing the boy and then helping the pregnant woman. And she felt safe sitting in his clinic, under his blanket. As she pondered this, he removed the boiling tea from the fire and filled two chipped clay mugs. He passed one of the mugs to her. Having just come from the fire, it was too hot to hold in her hands, so she placed it on the floor.

She looked at him. He'd resumed his post leaning on his desk. The only thing that had changed was the steaming tea at his elbow. He was tense, waiting for her to speak, to pass judgment on him. Well, judgment was for the Maker. And she wanted to help this man, this healer, and not just for her own reasons of wanting to learn from him; and not just because she found him attractive, either. Kindness was so hard to find in Kirkwall, especially in the Undercity. He ran his free clinic giving aid and hope to the downtrodden. He did more good in one day than the Chantry probably did in a month.

He had been so gentle in treating her and he hadn't even been angry at having to do so. If she wasn't careful, she would lose her heart to this man. So, with that thought in mind, she tried to lighten the mood.

"So, that explains your whole sexy tortured look."

His eyes widened. "Perhaps I should check a looking glass more often," he said, mirth coloring his speech. He looked her over again, as if seeing her in a new light. "I had not thought to ever find a woman who would look past what I just said."

Her heart sped up and she blushed. She hoped that the light was dim enough that he didn't see.

He continued. "My maps are yours. As am I, if you wish me to join your expedition. I thought I was done with the Grey Wardens, but if you have any need of me… I will be waiting here."

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it. The Deep Roads expedition was her only chance to stay out of the Templar's reach and his help meant the world to her.

She must have spoken aloud because he said, "I understand. We're all trying to stay out of the Templar's reach."

He moved toward her. She was disappointed when he took his stool and moved it away, placing it between her cot and the desk. She found herself wanting to be closer to him. She would just have to make do with his bedding. He sat and then reached behind him for his tea. While his back was turned, she discreetly bent her head and inhaled his scent from the soft blanket. He looked at her over his mug as he took a drink. He briefly closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the hot liquid. Kattrin was reminded of her own tea, but as she reached for it, he bent over and retrieved it for her, his hand brushing hers as he passed her the steaming mug.

"If I may ask, have you been an apostate your whole life?"

"Yes. My mother grew up in Kirkwall and my father escaped from the Circle in the Gallows. They fell in love and fled to Fereldan. They had me a few years later but we never stayed in one place very long. Even when the twins were born we continued to live on the run. It wasn't until I was fourteen that we moved to Lothering. It was a small town with a small Chantry and we became familiar with all of the Templars. That way if there were rumors of apostates we would hear of them. We almost moved again when my sister, Bethany, started showing signs of being a mage, but Mother put her foot down and we stayed in Lothering until the Blight caught up with us."

She took a drink of her tea. It was strong mint tea, with a hint of honey. It was delicious and felt wonderful going down, warming her from within.

"You and Bethany were lucky. Most mages would kill to have what you had." He looked at her like he could be included among those mages. He thought for a moment. "You know, you're the only person I've met with a mage parent she actually remembers."

She chuckled. "You sound like my father."

"Yes, well, having escaped the Circle, he would know. So, you and your sister learned all of your magic from him?"

"Well, Bethany did. I learned everything he had to teach but he couldn't help me with my healing gift. His talent lay in Elemental and Primal spells." She smiled ruefully. "He was so terrified when I told him that spirits spoke to me in my dreams. He actually broke into the Chantry to steal enough lyrium to go into the Fade with me and make sure I wasn't speaking with demons."

Anders nodded. "Even in the Circle, Spirit healers are rare. We're looked at with suspicion until someone has need of a healer. Then, what we do is overlooked." His voice was tinged with bitterness and he scowled at his tea.

Trying to pull him back from his dark thoughts, she said, "That's when he taught me his vow: _Magic serves that which is best in me. Not that which is most base_. He told me that as long as I followed it, I would never succumb to blood magic or demons."

He looked at her with his kind eyes. "Your father is a wise man. Is he still with you?"

She was surprised that even after so much time it still hurt. "No," she said softly. "He went to the Maker's side four years ago." She couldn't stop the shuddering sigh from leaving her lips. With a heavy heart, she continued. "Then, last year, I lost my sister while fleeing the Blight in Lothering."

Anders set down his tea before standing. He brought his stool closer to her and sat back down, putting his hands on her arms. "This is painful for you. I'm sorry I asked."

Managing to prevent the tears in her eyes from spilling was difficult in the face of his compassion. "Thank you. But I lost my father and my sister more than a year ago. You just lost your friend tonight. I'm sorry we couldn't save him."

He looked away from her, his expression unreadable. "We did save him," he whispered.

Kattrin shuddered involuntarily.

He gave her arms a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me about your sister."

She told him of growing up with the twins who were seven years younger than her. Carver with his caustic personality being an opposing force to Bethany's cheerful one; they seemed always to balance each other. She told Anders of Carver's growing resentment of the time that she and her sister spent with their father, learning to control and hide their gift just as he was learning to always protect the whole family.

"Bethany was my closest friend. She was the only one, besides my father, who understood what being a mage is like. She knew what we had to go through, every day, to prevent the three of us being taken away by the Templars. Whether to be carted off to the Circle, made Tranquil, or simply executed. Carver understands the need to hide, but his understanding only scratches the surface."

"Even though you lost them, you were very lucky to have the time that you had with them. Most mages barely remember their families. And we all come to the Circle alone." The bitterness in his voice was back and he must have been remembering his own experience being taken to the Circle. At some point in her story he had removed his hands from her, leaving a chasm between them. She tried to pull him back and close the distance again.

"What about you? Do you have any good memories of life in the Circle?"

He was thoughtful for a time. "There are brief moments; a stolen night of passion, sneaking out of the Circle, Mr. Wiggums the mouser, Karl." He paused. "Other than that, no."

She felt like an ass. "I'm sorry. My father never spoke of the Circle unless trying to instill something by making a point. I should have known not to ask."

There was another pregnant silence between them. Suddenly, Anders looked at her, catching her eyes. "You mentioned you've had little training in your talent. Would you like my help to learn more of Spirit healing? I could teach you."

She smiled at him. "I would like that very much."

Smiling, he said, "It's settled then. Would you like to start tomorrow?"

Kattrin groaned, remembering her promise to Aveline. Anders raised an eyebrow. "I promised to help Aveline with some unsavory types on the Wounded Coast tomorrow afternoon. I owe her for helping with the Templars this evening."

"Then I owe her, too. And I could use a potential friend in the guard. Perhaps I could join you?"

She felt elated at the idea. Oh, yes, she was going to lose her heart to this man if she wasn't careful. "How could we turn down such a talented and generous healer?"

His eyes twinkled. "How indeed."

Anders stood, taking her empty tea mug and his own and placed them on the desk. She noticed pre-dawn light coming in through the windows. She'd been here talking with Anders all night!

"You know," he said, turning to face her, "I don't know your name."

Thoughts of the coming dawn fled. Her mouth fell open; then she started laughing. "My name's Hawke."

"Just Hawke?"

"Like just Anders?" she teased. He gave his crooked smile. "Well, if you must know my name is Kattrin Hawke, but most people just call me Hawke."

"Kattrin. That's a pretty name."

And didn't that just set her heart running again? "Thank you."

"Avvaran, isn't it?"

His question surprised her. How did he know that? What kind of things did mages learn in the Circle? "Yes, it is."

"I'm sure it has special significance since you said your parents were from Kirkwall."

She nodded. "I was named after an Avvaran woman who helped my father and mother through the Frostback Mountains and into Fereldan before I was born."

"Well, Kattrin Hawke, allow me to be a gentleman and walk you home. We both need some sleep before traipsing around the coastal regions of the Marches."

He moved closer to her and bent to retrieve her tunic and chainmail from the floor. "And may I suggest that you repair this before we set out?"

He passed the garment to her and she started to look at the damage. She could fit her whole hand through the breach in her armor! She groaned. Andraste's ass, she didn't have the coin for armor repairs. She'd have to have Mother help her with it. And that might earn her a lecture.

Anders stood over her. "What's wrong?"

"If I bring my armor to my mother to fix, I won't get any sleep at all. And I don't have the coin to bring it to someone else for repair."

"Well, how about you sleep right where you are and you can worry about the armor repair later this morning?"

She was about to refuse when a huge yawn cracked her jaw, causing her eyes to water. Anders smiled at her again.

"That settles it," he said, pushing her shoulders down and pulling her feet up onto the cot. He retrieved his blanket from around her and before she could protest, he draped it over her. He left her side and quickly returned with a pillow, which he placed behind her head. She felt a small flow of mana but she was too tired and ignored it. Moments later, sleep claimed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Anders should have felt bad about casting a sleep spell on Hawke but she needed her rest. He couldn't get her armor repaired if she were awake. And he knew just the woman to help. Besides, he didn't have any spare shirts for Kattrin to wear to accompany him through Darktown. He extinguished the lantern after locking the clinic doors.

Lysa had been in his clinic several times as each her five children developed breathing problems from the poor conditions of Darktown. Like most of his patients, she had nothing to pay with but had asked if he found anything she could do to help to please come to her. He hadn't needed her help in the clinic with all of Lirene's volunteers. And she really needed to be home caring for her children. But, she had been a seamstress before she left Fereldan, and if anyone could fix Kattrin's armor, it was her.

He tried very hard not to think about the half-naked woman sleeping in his clinic, wrapped in his blanket. He was supposed to be a healer, but from the moment he had lifted up her shirt it had taken all of his willpower not to stare at her moderate breasts straining against her breast-band. Though, he couldn't stop from noticing how her nipples had pebbled in the cool air. He had distanced himself from her before his need drove him to find out if her skin was as silky as it seemed. How could he feel this way? Since he had merged with Justice almost a year ago, no woman had caught his fancy. He didn't admire, he didn't flirt, and Maker's breath he didn't _touch_; he just hadn't desired any between-the-sheets encounters. Something about this woman pulled him, almost the same way that the Hero of Fereldan had. He gave himself a mental shake. If he wasn't careful, he would wind up following Kattrin around Kirkwall in the exact same way that he had followed the Warden-Commander around. Like a lovesick puppy.

A new thought made him groan. Kattrin was planning a trip into the Deep Roads and he had volunteered to help her. He was already on the same path for history to repeat itself. How stupid could he be? _Not stupid, grateful._ Was he really so desperate as to accept help just because it was offered? Or was Justice no longer tamping down his need for a pretty girl? And, Maker, she was beautiful. Her skin was the color of cream contrasting with her black hair, which she had pulled into a chignon, showing off her elegant neck. She had lush, pink lips, high cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes containing sapphires. Plus, she was a mage. And the best part? She was considerate and kind. Andraste's flaming knickers, why did she have to show up in his life now? Why couldn't he have met her a year ago?

Anders realized he was becoming aroused. Even worse, he had been walking Darktown without being aware of his surroundings. Stupid and dangerous. He relied on the refugees not to give him away, asking for nothing in return for healing except to be kept safe from the Templars. But, the Coterie and other thugs still lurked in the Undercity. He'd already been shaken down a couple times by the Coterie which had cost him in healing potions and salves. He didn't have any coin for them to take so they took the only other things of value he had.

Chastising himself, he arrived safely at Lysa's door. He was glad his robes hid any unsightly bulges. He knocked softly, aware of the early hour. She smiled when she saw him darkening her door. That was a pleasant surprise.

"Good morning, healer. What can I help you with?"

"A friend of mine was injured last night. I've taken care of her, but she has very little coin and her armor was damaged. Would—"

"I would be happy to take a look. Please, come in."

She had a tiny, two room hovel but it was clean and warm. Her children were still sleeping around the fire pit in the center of the room. As Lysa took Kattrin's tunic from him, he knelt before each child and placed his hand on each forehead to ensure they were all still in good health. The youngest one, Anders couldn't recall her name, had a bit of a cold. He called up some mana to ease her sleep. He would send one of the boys here with a potion for her.

"Your kindness humbles me, healer. I appreciate all you've done for me and my children. Please, have a seat and enjoy some tea. This won't take but a moment."

He stepped carefully across the room to the rickety chair she offered, but declined the tea. She looked disappointed, so he explained. "I just shared a cup of tea with my friend and if I have another cup I won't be able to sleep."

She shook her head at him. She already had needle and thread and was sewing as she spoke. "You work very hard, healer. You need to take better care of yourself." Having spoken her piece, she hummed a little tune under her breath. He had never come to her with anything because her manner reminded him of his own mother. Even though she didn't look anything like his mother, it still hurt to be reminded.

Before he could sink too far into old and faded memories of the mother he was torn away from, Lysa was finished. Anders smiled at her, "Thank you."

"I said if there was anything I could do to assist you and I meant it. I have a large debt to you and I will work to pay it back," she said proudly.

"I noticed your youngest daughter has a cold. I will send one of the boys by later today with a potion for her. Make sure she takes it with some food."

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "You really are a kind and gentle soul, healer. May the Maker bless you and keep you."

He stood. "May the Maker keep you and your children as well, Lysa."

She opened her door for him, reminding him again that if she could help to please come to her. He bid her another good morning, and re-entered Darktown with her door closing quietly behind him.

His walk back to his clinic was quick and without incident. He was thankful to the refugees' for their diligence in keeping his doors maintained and in working order. He was able to re-enter the clinic without a sound.

And there she was, sleeping soundly and clutching his blanket. He moved away from her to add more logs to the fire. He didn't have another blanket so he wanted as much warmth as he could get. As he made his way back to his cot to pull off his boots, he noticed that her hair was unbound and there was a neat pile of pins on the floor. _How…?_

He curtailed his curiosity. It was a puzzle for tomorrow—or later today, as it were. If he didn't get some sleep he wouldn't be able to help anyone on the Wounded Coast.

* * *

><p><em>The tunnels were dark.<em>_He could feel the tainted darkspawn all around, gaining on him.__Panting, he ran until he slipped on something soft and slick.__He pinwheeled his arms, trying to keep his balance but he wasn't successful.__Flailing, he crashed to the gritty stone floor, scraping his knees then his palms before hitting his head.__Sprawled in the rubble, he tried to catch his breath but could only cough from all the dust.__Even over the pounding in his head, he could still hear it._

_"__No!" he cried hoarsely, coughing again._

_He tried to get up but slipped again in the putrid pink globes.__Pain lanced through his leg.__He looked down to see darkness spreading from his torn flesh, painting him different shades of darkness.__Agony laced through him and only got worse as it spread.__The more the darkness spread, the louder the song became._

_He had to get up.__He had to find the source of the song.__It would drive him mad if he didn't._

_No, he had to get out.__Only the light would drown out the song.__He pushed himself to his feet, but his injured leg wouldn't hold his weight.__Collapsing again, he crawled through the dust and rubble and the squelching diseased masses.__Finding the wall, he used it to push himself back to his feet.__He hobbled as fast as he could, leaning against the tunnel wall.__He ignored the way the roughhewn stone tore the flesh of his hands and the way the muscles of his good leg cramped from the strain.__He could see the grit on the floor and his blood leaving a trail behind him.__He could see the tunnels around him.__He was getting closer._

_Suddenly, the floor crumbled beneath him and he plummeted back into darkness.__He slammed into the ground.__He heard the sickening wet crack of his leg breaking and he cried out.__His cry was answered with guttural speech and growling._

_He was surrounded by darkspawn.__They parted to allow a tall, pale emissary to advance.__He scrabbled backward, trying to get away but the darkspawn behind him pushed him forward.__The song was louder here.__He shook his head violently but the sound wouldn't go away.__The emissary emitted an evil noise that could only be a laugh._

_"__You will lead us to the source of the song and we will be rewarded with silence."_

_"__No, I won't help you."_

_The emissary only laughed again._

_"__No.__I won't give in.__I won't help you!"_

* * *

><p>He bolted upright, sweating and shaking. Everything was so bright. There was someone standing over him. Panic gripped him and he tried jumping up, to get away, but his leg caught something and he fell.<p>

"Anders?" Such a beautiful voice. Not the dark, corrupted voices of the darkspawn. "Anders? It's all right. You're safe."

Anders. That was him. _I am Justice._ Yeah, that was him, too.

He took a deep shuddering breath and tried to slow his rapid heart. A woman crouched before him, raven locks flowing down her head and around her shoulders, draping her like a second blanket. Concerned sapphire eyes watched him.

She moved slowly to kneel before him. She reached a hand out to brush aside the hair that had fallen into his face while the other held the blanket closed. "Shhh, you're safe now." He felt mana pour from her hand into him. His heart rate slowed and he could breathe again. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but he found himself paralyzed before her bright, soothing light.

Instead, it was her that gave him a reassuring smile. Leaning back into her crouch, she offered him her hand. He took it and she carefully pulled him to his feet and led him to sit on his cot.

His face became impossibly hot. Looking down at his feet, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

She pulled his stool close to sit before him. "Anders, it's all right. I still have nightmares of the ogre that… took my sister from me." She took his hand. "Don't be ashamed."

He could only look at her. Somehow, in the mere hours that he had known her, she had touched a part of him he thought was dead and gone. He needed to be careful around her. It would kill him to hurt this kind and gentle creature.

"Is this part of the 'plagued by nightmares of the Archdemon'?" she asked softly.

He looked at her hand on his. She was pale like him even though she had grown up free instead of locked in the Circle. Her hands were lightly callused and knew work where his were smooth except for the middle finger on his right hand from using a quill. If he were still the old Anders, this would be an opportunity to kiss her hand and make a charming remark. Sighing, he looked in her eyes. "Yes, it is."

In the blink of an eye, she was leaning into him, her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. Then, as quickly as it happened, it was over and she was sitting before him rearranging the blanket to cover her breasts. Her cheeks were stained with rosy color and she was examining her toes. He had to smile. Her impulse to comfort him had embarrassed her and, Maker, it was adorable. He suddenly wondered if she was a virgin.

Giving himself a mental shake and clearing his throat, he said, "I'm sorry for worrying you so early in the morning. What time were you supposed to meet your friend in the guard?"

Her eyes went wide. "Andraste's flaming sword! I've been here all night! Mother will be worried. And Carver will be furious at me for worrying Mother." Frantically, she jumped off the stool, nearly bowling him over. She ran to the cot where she slept and stopped. She picked up the pillow and put it down before kneeling to look under the cot. She spun around to face him, her hair spinning in an arc behind her. "Do you know where my armor went?"

Where did he put it after returning to the clinic? He looked over to see her padded tunic draped across his desk. Following his line of sight, she saw her armor and looked back to him in confusion.

He smiled at her. "I had a friend repair it for you after you fell asleep."

He watched her entire face light up with joy as she practically danced in place. She flew at him, hitting him with enough force to topple them over. She was laughing and squeezing the life out of him while they both fell into his cot, which groaned in protest. He resisted the impulse to roll her under him and kiss her senseless. Releasing him, she kissed him on the cheek before lithely hopping to the desk. He was breathing hard and struggling to regain control over his body.

Thank the Maker she hadn't noticed. She gently laid his blanket on the desk next to her armor. Her long hair completely hid the pale skin of her back. She quickly dressed and reached under the cot to grab her belt. Now completely clothed, she bent over again to retrieve her hair pins and deftly coiled her hair. As she was inserting pins into her hair the question of the pins came to Anders' mind. He needed any distraction from remembering the sensation of her body pressed against his.

"How did you take your hair down?"

"Beg your pardon?" she asked around the last pin between her lips.

"Last night, after we talked, I… Well, I cast a sleep spell on you to aid your healing. How did you wake up to take your hair down?"

Hair completely pinned into place, she sat down on the cot opposite him. Meeting his eyes, she chewed her lower lip. Her fingers twisted in her lap. He waited. He began to think she wasn't going to tell him when she spoke.

"My father was born in the Circle so he was raised with their teachings. He taught me and my sister the magic that he learned in the Circle but not the opinions of the Templars or the other mages. But he felt that malificars were still a valid threat and wanted to make sure that Bethany and I were protected." She looked at him pleadingly. "Don't misunderstand me, my father felt that mages deserved their freedom. But he felt that malificars gave all mages a bad name, whether they were a part of the Circle or not. He wanted to protect us from harm no matter where it came from. So, he called in a favor from a friend and had these made for us."

She removed a ring from the middle finger of her right hand. It was an ordinary looking piece of jewelry with a brass fitting and a purple and white stone. She then handed it to him and he could immediately sense magical power and protection.

"Your father is right about malificars." When Anders handed the ring back to her, she placed it on her finger and nodded before continuing.

"The rings are to protect us from spells from the Entropy school. I haven't tested the rings on anything from the Elemental school or Primal school because I couldn't bring myself to cast combat spells at my sister." She gave him a rueful smile. "When Bethany died, I gave her ring to Carver. I don't know if it works for him but it felt like what Father would have wanted."

Anders ached with her loss. To have had a family who loved and cherished you only to lose them… Well, maybe that was still better than not having a family. "I'm sorry to remind you of your loss."

"No, it's fine. I should probably let my mother and Carver know that I'm alive before leaving with Aveline."

Anders stood. "Yes, they need to know that you're safe. Should I meet you someplace afterwards?"

She looked at him from where she was sitting, the way he imagined he had probably looked at Ser Pounce-a-lot when the Warden-Commander presented the cat to him. The look said that she had found a creature in need of care.

She stood. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? After we speak with Mother, of course."

We. After _we_ speak with Mother. She wanted to take him to meet her mother? Her mother who had loved a mage and raised two mage daughters? Curiosity overruled his good sense and he found himself saying, "Well, let's not keep her waiting any longer."


	5. Chapter 5

Kattrin was torn between elation to have Anders accompanying her and anxiety about how her mother and brother would greet her after being out all night. Out all night with the man that was walking with her. Having never done this before, she wasn't really sure what to expect. Even though Carver had his girlfriend Peaches in Lothering, he never brought her home to meet the family. Kattrin had never had a boyfriend or a boy who was a friend. Well, she had had Rylan for a brief time but she didn't really think he counted. She hoped Anders wouldn't be witness to anything too embarrassing.

Reaching Gamlen's home, she sighed and gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Well, here's home. It actually belongs to my uncle, but he's sort of taken us in."

Anders raised an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

Kattrin worked to keep her anger in check. It wasn't Anders' fault that her uncle was an ass. "If you want to hear the story, I'll tell you later."

She opened the door and was immediately tackled by her mabari. He knocked her down and stood on her chest before proceeding to lick her face. "Ugh, Deimos, you brute. Let me up." Laughing, she hugged the mabari before he could go back inside. His tongue lolled to one side and he looked satisfied that she was home safe. "You know I don't like it when you lick me," she said, wiping her face on her sleeve. The hound retrieved his tongue and tilted his head at her, whining. "I still love you, but less slobber next time, okay?" He barked agreement.

She started to turn around to invite Anders in but someone grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her through the door. Carver glared at her. Then he jerked the first finger on his other hand in the direction of the fireplace, where Mother was in her usual spot, but she hadn't turned to greet her daughter. Yanking her arm out of Carver's grip she glared right back at him. Giving Carver her back, she stepped to close to Anders, who was still standing outside. Taking his hand, she led him into the house and to the fireplace. He let her guide him inside, giving Diemos a look that she didn't catch the meaning of.

Kattrin released his hand to place her hand on her mother's shoulder. She said softly, "Mother, I'm sorry to worry you. I was injured last night and this healer was kind enough to help me."

Turning to Kattrin, she held out her arms. Kattrin stepped into them gratefully. Her mother whispered to her that she had been so worried. Releasing her, she looked at Anders. "Thank you, messere, for taking care of my daughter. I don't have much in the way of coin but I will find some way to repay you."

"No, no, dear lady. Please keep your coin and—"

Kattrin interrupted him. "Actually, Mother, I don't know when Anders ate last. Are we too late for breakfast?"

Anders eyebrows shot to his hairline and his jaw came unhinged.

"Of course not, dear. You two have a seat and I'll get something for you. Carver, have you eaten?"

"No. I'm going to the Hanged Man to meet Varric. I'll eat there." Glaring at her again, Carver left, slamming the door.

Uncle Gamlen started grousing about everyone's lack of respect for his home and being overrun by damn Fereldan's looking for handouts before leaving.

That left just her and Anders sitting at the table while her mother was in the kitchen. Anders was looking at her disapprovingly. "What?"

"I am capable of feeding and caring for myself."

She leaned toward him dropping her voice. "Two birds, one stone. It prevented my mother from lecturing and allowed me to repay you for letting me get some sleep. My mother is an excellent cook. You'll see."

Anders scowled. "You don't need to repay me. I owe you for helping me, remember?"

"Okay, you win. But, what's a home cooked meal between friends? Or teacher and student, even?"

Before he could argue further, her mother asked if Kattrin could help her bring the food out. Kattrin jumped up to grab dishes from the kitchen. She had iced scones, fresh fruit, porridge, thinly sliced and fried mutton, browned potato hash, and fresh milk. Making two trips, they filled the table with the morning meal and passed around wooden bowls and utensils. Sitting back down, she bowed her head while her mother gave thanks to the Maker. She noticed that Anders had his head bowed, too. When Mother was done, Anders looked like his eyes would fall out of his head. If she didn't know better, he would soon have his tongue out like Deimos, drooling everywhere. She nudged him gently with her elbow and winked at him. "Dig in."

He didn't need to be told twice. She watched him as he heaped the food into the large bowl. She was hungry, too, due to the strenuous day before and the healing. She had matched Anders heaping bowl for heaping bowl the first time around. Four bowls later, she could only watch him in awe. Granted, he had fought Templars and had expended a lot of mana healing refugees during the day, in the fight against the Templars, and then more healing after, but Maker! He saw her looking at him and had the good grace to blush before digging in again. He muttered something about Grey Warden appetites. Her mother seemed to find the whole ordeal delightful. She laughed a lot and made light conversation with them both, with Anders replying between mouthfuls. Kattrin guessed that her mother missed the big family meals they used to have, with her brother and her father each going for third helpings.

Anders finally slowed down after his fourth bowl. He did get a fifth bowl but it was light fare in comparison to what he'd already eaten. Popping the last bit of fruit in his mouth, he leaned back in his chair resting his hands on his stomach.

"Thank you, Leandra, for the wonderful meal. I don't remember the last time I had such a delightful breakfast."

"Thank you, Anders. It was my pleasure. I miss having more people to eat my cooking." Her mother paused, thinking. "Anders, if you spend so much time helping others in your clinic I'm sure that you don't eat as well as you should. Excuse my saying so but you certainly don't look it. I invite you to eat here with us any time you would like. And if you can't find the time, then I will send a meal to you through Kattrin."

Anders stared at her for a moment. "Serah, I appreciate the gesture, but—"

"No buts, messere. And I will not take no for an answer."

Kattrin watched Anders open his mouth only to close it. When he opened his mouth to argue a second time, she smiled at him, placing her hand on his. "Be careful, Anders. Mother is good at getting her way."

Her mother stood, nodding her head and smiling at them both. "Then it's settled. And since Kattrin provides the majority of the food, Gamlen won't be able to complain."

Kattrin laughed. "Mother, Uncle Gamlen will complain about the sun rising."

"Now, Kattrin, Maker knows Gamlen deserves that with his recent behavior, but I raised you better."

Kattrin could feel the blood rushing to her face. "Yes, mother. I'm sorry."

"Well, you had better go and gather your brother. I worry about him spending his day in a tavern. Tell Aveline that I said hello and that she should join us for dinner."

Kattrin stood. Her mother came around the table to place her hand on Kattrin's cheek. "Please be careful, dear. I worry about these things you do for Carver and me."

"I know, mother. I am careful. Besides, I have Aveline and now Anders to watch my back."

Her mother sighed. "You are more and more like your father every day." She bent over the table to begin gathering dishes and the few leftovers from the table.

Anders stood hurriedly and started to gather dishes as well. "Please, let me help you."

"Thank you. You can take your current load to the kitchen but, if you would, please help Kattrin to coax Carver out of the tavern. I can take care of the dishes."

Before her mother could gather another load, Kattrin hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. She went into the kitchen to help Anders unload the dishes he had grabbed. Taking him by the hand, she led him out of the house and onto the little uncovered porch. Anders looked like he was about to say something so she placed her finger against his lips. Heat shot through her hand straight to her groin. Her heart pounded and her fingers tingled. His lips were as soft as they looked.

Trying to ignore her body's reaction, she removed her finger and said, "Let's head to the tavern. We can't talk here."

Nodding, he followed her down the stairs and into the Hanged Man.

* * *

><p>Anders followed her to a table in the back of the Hanged Man. When the server came by, Kattrin ordered ale. He ordered water. As much as he wanted a real drink, Justice wouldn't let it happen. He'd tried just after they had joined. Well, after he'd finally managed to wash all the blood off him.<p>

Distracting him from the past, the server brought their drinks. Kattrin downed hers in one long draught like a veteran and ordered another.

The question slipped out. "Where did you learn to drink like that?"

She smiled at him. "Carver and I spent a year indentured to the Red Iron."

"The mercenary band?"

"The same." Her smile faltered. "Remember when I said my uncle sort of took us in?"

"Yes. I figured it was because of his amiable personality."

She laughed, a full, throaty laugh that made you want to laugh, too. Maker, he needed to stop noticing these things about her. He knew that to develop feelings was dangerous. Plus, Justice was starting to become irritated.

"Thank you. I needed that." She winked at him and downed her next drink as soon as the server brought it. She asked for another.

"We would never have left Fereldan if it weren't for the Blight. My mother is from here, I told you that, but I didn't say that she was part of a noble house, Amell."

Andraste's flaming knickers. He swore his jaw hit the floor and his eyes fell onto the table. "Amell?"

"Yes. Why are you looking at me that way?"

He lowered his voice. "I knew an Amell, in the Circle. Solona."

She lowered her voice to match. "The Amell's have always had magic in their bloodline, ever since the Third Blight. My mother's cousin had a mage child. I bet that was her."

A shiver ran down his spine. He was raised to be a good little Andrastian, learning about the Chant and the Maker's plan. He'd given up most of those beliefs with the development of his magic and the resulting imprisonment in the Circle Tower. But right now, he could almost feel the plan of the Maker at work.

Kattrin looked at him and then at the table, tracing circles with her finger in a bit of spilled ale. "Did you know her well?"

His heart went out to her. Yes, she might have grown up free but the price was knowing nothing about other mages outside of her family. She said that her sister had been her only mage friend. He wondered if her sister had been her only friend.

"No. She was an apprentice and I, a mage. She was new to the Circle and I had passed my Harrowing. Apprentices share quarters with other apprentices on the lower floor and mages have quarters on second floor. But, I… um… frequented the apprentice quarters." He cleared his throat. "Before I escaped the last time, I heard that she was to go through her Harrowing soon." He forced himself to stop there. He had no idea if Solona had survived her Harrowing or the abominations that had overrun the tower during the Blight.

She was still tracing circles on the table with her finger. He seemed to only turn the conversation to things that caused her pain. The server came back with another ale. This one Kattrin nursed, sipping from the mug occasionally.

"Well," she continued, "my mother married my father against her mother's wishes, bringing more magic into our line. When we came to Kirkwall, my mother was expecting to return to the Amell estate, only to find that my uncle had lost it to slavers to cover a gambling debt." She took another sip. "We stayed in the Gallows for three days waiting for him to show up and pass that little bit of news along. They weren't letting any more Fereldan's into the city but my uncle had a plan to sell Carver and me into indentured servitude to pay for the cost of buying the three of us a way into the city. We had a choice to either help a smuggler group or the Red Iron. I felt the Red Iron had more money and reputation to hide an apostate." She sighed. "And so, here I am, a better fighter and a better drinker."

"At least you were only caged for a year." He didn't mean for his voice to come out so bitter.

She looked at him. "True." She tilted her glass towards him. "Here's to staying free."

He raised his water and they tapped their clay mugs together before finishing their drinks. Putting his mug down, he spotted Carver, Varric, and Aveline moving towards their table.

"Your friends are here," he said, nodding his head in their direction.


	6. Chapter 6

They had reached the Wounded Coast by midday. There were dark clouds coming in from the west but it was still sunny. The rocky cliffs and scrub helped to shade the sunlight reflecting off the sands. Aveline took the lead from there, headed for where the ambush was supposed to occur. Anders found himself enjoying the sunshine and the cool breeze. It had been a while since he'd been out of Kirkwall. It was nice.

He caught Kattrin watching him. She smiled. "You seem happy."

"It's nice to get some fresh air. Kirkwall starts to stink after a bit."

Aveline turned to look at Kattrin. "There might be some stragglers before the main group. Nothing we can't handle."

Kattrin nodded and removed her staff from its holder on her back. Anders did the same. Varric loaded Bianca and ran up to Aveline in the lead. "Your bandits have probably set up a few surprises for us. Let me help you to keep an eye out before more than just the sand ruins my boots."

Aveline nodded and stayed close to the dwarf while Anders and Kattrin followed at a distance. They hadn't walked very far before they were attacked by four men.

He cast lightning at the closest one and saw Kattrin do the same. He smiled. It appeared they both enjoyed shooting lightning at fools. Aveline then bashed the highwayman with her shield. The first outlaw went down and Varric shot a bolt into the heart of the second one. Two down, two to go.

Suddenly, Kattrin screamed and fell to her knees. Standing behind her was a bandit assassin, and Kattrin's blood was bright on his twin daggers. Fear gripped Anders and he hurriedly cast a heal spell. A bolt went flying past him to catch the assassin in the shoulder. Varric cursed. The assassin vanished in a puff of smoke before Aveline could close in.

Kattrin looked at him with wide eyes. She gave a shaky laugh as got to her feet. She quickly got back into the fight, throwing ice at one bandit before he could re-engage Aveline from behind. Varric caught the last other with a bolt to the throat. They were all on their guard, waiting for the assassin to show again. Anders reached out with his senses, trying to locate the assassin. He hoped that he wouldn't be the next target. Kattrin said that she could heal but he didn't know how well and he didn't want to tempt fate.

There! He and Varric spun, both of them scattering the sand around them. Varric fired apparently at nothing at all before he could cast anything. There was a wet gurgling sound and the assassin appeared before falling over with a bolt to the throat.

"It's okay, Bianca. I know you only missed to avoid hitting Kattrin. All is forgiven."

_Is the dwarf speaking to his crossbow?_Anders heard Kattrin chuckle. Aveline only shook her head. Anders shrugged his shoulders. If everyone else took the dwarf talking to his crossbow in stride then he would, too.

Anders made his way around the fallen thugs to Kattrin and ran his hands across her back, delving with his magic to make sure she didn't have any poison in her system. When he finished checking her, he made rounds to Varric and Aveline. No one else appeared to be injured so they continued toward the ambush site with Varric and Aveline leading and Anders and Kattrin in the back.

They all stopped in front of a narrow pass between two rock faces. They looked at one another and after a silent agreement, they continued into the thin passageway guardedly.

"I don't like this," Anders said.

"You and me both, Blondie," replied Varric.

Blondie. He smiled at the nickname. He guessed it was better than Sparkle-fingers.

"Will you both shut—"

Before Aveline could finish, they heard, "Looks like we got visitors." Three men came around a bend in the path to stand before them. Before any of them could react, another voice spoke.

"Oy, we don't like people stickin' their noses where they don't belong." That came from behind them. Anders turned his head to see four men coming up from behind them.

Aveline bellowed, "Face me! I stand for all of us!" The three in front of Aveline yelled and charged her as one. Anders made a mental note to check on her.

That left the other four to Kattrin, Varric, and him. Varric chose the target furthest on the left and fired. Kattrin hurled a fireball hitting three of the four bandits, including the one Varric shot. The men screamed, running around in panicked, flaming circles. The uninjured brigand on the right advanced on Kattrin. Growling, Anders shot ice at him, freezing him in place. One of the other highwaymen got just a little too close to his blazing friends and the residual ice quenched the fire; before he could advance again, one of Varric's bolts when through his eye. Kattrin moved in on the iced bandit to hit him with her staff. He shattered in a spray of glittering, red chunks.

With the odds in their favor, Anders turned to see Aveline was still holding out against two, one of the bandits lay at her feet, but she was bleeding in several places. He cast a healing spell, enveloping Aveline in a blue light. Unfortunately, he drew the attention of one of her attackers. Calling on more mana, he cast another ice spell as quickly as he could. Aveline hit the frozen bandit, shattering him, and turned to her last opponent. Anders turned to shoot lightning at the bandit at the rear at the same time that Varric turned and shot the last bandit in front of Aveline.

"Well, we won," Anders said, smiling.

Varric just laughed and Kattrin smiled back at him. Aveline just nodded as she wiped her sword clean on a dead bandit's shirt before re-sheathing it.

"Does anyone need healing?"

Aveline said, "Not anymore, thank you." Varric just shook his head.

"I do," Kattrin said. She grimaced. "I think I tore open the new skin where I was stabbed."

Anders moved toward her. "Your stab wounds were deep. Let me take a look."

Kattrin had new blood on the back of her tunic. He drew on the Fade, sending his healing into her as he passed his hands along her shoulders.

"You might need more healing if you keep using your staff. You should focus on using more spells and only use your staff if you need to."

Kattrin turned her head to look at him over her shoulder and nodded.

They continued up the path, following it as it curved to the right, watching both back and front this time.

Varric held up his hand for a halt. He pulled what looked like a narrow leather tube from inside his coat. He unrolled it to reveal a series of shining silver instruments, some brushes and a few finely crafted vials filled with mysterious liquids. Removing a brush, he knelt and began to sweep away the sand in a meticulous manner. Fascinated, Anders moved closer to watch. Under Varric's care, sharp and rusted points started to emerge from the sand. He started to remove the sand from the middle of the points, revealing a flat, round piece of metal. Varric then put his brush down and reached for a small silver spoon. He began use both the spoon and the brush alternately to remove sand from around the bottom of the flat piece of metal, exposing a trigger. Switching tools again, Varric deftly disarmed the trigger and heaved a sigh of relief. Rolling up his implements and replacing them within his jacket, he stood and grinned broadly.

"Piece of cake."

It was Anders' turn to shake his head. He'd seen the Warden-Commander disarm traps, but she had long and delicate fingers not stubs like the dwarf. Sigrun boasted that she could do the same but he never saw it. He was impressed by such a show of dexterity.

They continued down the curving path diligently. As they came upon a wide expanse of sand, Kattrin stopped him with her right hand on his chest. His heart began to pound at her touch. She then pointed to something with her left.

"Hold up a minute," he called. Aveline and Varric turned. Aveline had her brows drawn down and was frowning. Varric was looking around, puzzled. Anders moved up the slope of the rock face to gather the healing herb.

"Sorry, with all the fighting we do, I just can't pass up a healing herb," Kattrin said to Aveline and Varric. Aveline caught Kattrin's eye and nodded. Anders wondered how long Kattrin had known this member of the guard.

Turning right at the end of the narrow path, they found they had gone in a circle around a large rocky outcropping. Backtracking, they went right from the narrow path. They came to a circular area with a rock pillar at the center. There were barrels on both sides of the pillar and a group of men just beyond it.

"There's our targets! For the Kirkwall guard!" Aveline yelled, pulling her sword as she ran at the group.

There were only four of them before one vanished in a puff of smoke. One of the bandits yelled, "We're under attack!" Suddenly, there were seven more bandits to contend with.

Anders threw a fireball at the newcomers as Kattrin did the same. He had a brief moment to consider how in sync they were before he heard Aveline scream. Instinctually, he threw a healing spell at her before launching a bout of ice just behind her three assailants. He managed to catch the bandits without hitting Aveline but it cost him the full freezing effect and Aveline's blows did not lead to shattering outlaws.

"To Aveline!" Kattrin shouted. Anders was about to let her know that Aveline was healed when he felt her pull a tremendous amount of mana from the Fade. She had her eyes closed in concentration and didn't see the lone highwayman advancing at her. Varric was assisting Aveline and they both had their backs to the mages. Running toward Kattrin, he hit the moving bandit square in the chest with a lightning bolt, dropping him. He watched as one of Kattrin's hands caught fire. She flung her hands down, catching the other on fire. Then she proceeded to pull upward with her fists, to her waist, and finally threw her fiery fists above her head. Large fireballs began raining from the sky onto the group of seven bandits. He couldn't stop his mouth from falling open and blatantly staring at her. Justice reminded him that the middle of a battle was not the time to lose focus.

Getting back into the fray, he saw that Varric and Aveline were down to just one thug. Varric sighted and fired, hitting the ruffian in the eye. Both of them turned to see fireballs raining onto the charred remains of the seven who tried to join their companions. In unison Aveline and Varric turned to him, but he just shook his head and motioned to Kattrin. When both of their mouths fell open, he didn't feel so foolish.

Pulling them back, he asked, "The assassin?"

Varric was the first to tear his gaze away from Kattrin's raining fire. "Dead."

Aveline knelt to flip over one of the dead bandits at her feet. Anders could see that they had better arms and armor than your typical bandit could afford.

Aveline echoed his thoughts while examining the dead man's leather armor. "Well-equipped for bandits, but dead is dead and the road is clear." She stood. "Captain Jeven needs to know of this. Back to the barracks for your just reward."


	7. Chapter 7

Varric finished with a broad smile, "But, Da, that's my pig!"

Kattrin giggled and Carver roared with laughter. Aveline and Anders were smiling. Maker, Anders was devastating handsome when he gave that small smile of his. She was trying so hard not to stare at him but if the ale kept flowing, she wasn't sure how much longer she had before she lacked the ability to stop herself.

They sat in Varric's suite in the Hanged Man, listing to Varric's stories, celebrating Aveline's rise to Guard Captain. Varric was picking up the tab and with four of them drinking, Edwina, one of the servers, had saved herself some trouble and brought them a whole cask of ale. The cask was situated on a shelf behind where Carver sat so he was the designated bartender. Varric sat to his left in his usual spot at the head of the table and Aveline sat to his right. Kattrin was situated between Varric and Anders, and she swore Anders was radiating more heat than the fireplace. Then again, it might be her.

Anders was drinking water again. She never found out why. Before she could ask him, Varric kicked her foot. When she looked at him, he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. What did he mean by that? Was he a mind reader and didn't want her to ask about the water?

"Where do you get all these stories?" asked Aveline.

"I listen and observe. Everyone has a tale to tell, but the best stories are truth with a little creative flare."

"It seems to me that you do more talking than listening." This came from Carver.

"Well, Junior, I do like the sound of my own voice."

"I'll drink to that!"

After another round of ale was consumed, Varric asked, "So, who's up for a game of diamondback?"

Kattrin groaned audibly and was joined by everyone except Anders, who appeared puzzled. She shook her head at him.

Aveline finished her mug of ale before standing up. "I need to be up early for a meeting with Seneschal Bran. Thank you, Varric, for the drinks."

Varric lifted his mug to her before finishing his drink.

Aveline turned to Kattrin. "And thank you, Hawke. You're a true friend."

Kattrin mimicked Varric and saluted the future Captain of the Guard. Aveline gave her a small bow, and with that, she left.

"Well, if no one is up for diamondback, then I suggest that Kattrin walk Anders home and I teach Junior a lesson in real drinking," Varric said mildly.

"You're on, dwarf!" Carver exclaimed.

"I don't need an escort home. I promise I still know the way," Anders said, smiling.

"Nonsense, Blondie. The streets are dangerous at night. You'd be better off with Hawke watching over you."

"Then who will walk Hawke home?"

"I'll send Junior along to get her after his lesson," Varric said reasonably.

Kattrin quickly finished her drink, trying not to grin from ear to ear. She didn't know Varric's plan but she wasn't going to waste this opportunity. She stood slowly so that no one would see exactly how drunk she was. The room didn't tilt but her vision was a little blurry.

Anders stood and began walking toward the exit, but before she followed, she caught Varric's eye. He winked at her. So, he must have seen her watching Anders. Either she was being too obvious and everyone saw or Varric was being observant. She hoped it was the latter. Trying to curb her rising jubilation, she followed Anders into the cool night.

She walked slowly, pretending to enjoy the night when she was actually trying to sober herself somewhat. Being a gentleman, Anders kept pace with her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She suddenly found herself wondering if he was a good kisser. She remembered stolen nights in the barn with Rylan, kissing and touching each other. The nights that they had been able to sneak away were few and many of them had been ruined by Carver already being in the barn with Peaches. But the nights the barn had been available—

Anders spoke, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I had a friend like you once. Got into all kinds of trouble, dragged me along. Didn't think I'd be doing that again. I got a bit weighty last night when we talked. Sorry for putting that on you."

He was wearing his charming little smile so she grinned broadly back at him. Her drunken state and her joy at being alone with him percolated through her. "It happens a lot. You'd be surprised how people just tell me their darkest secrets. I must look trustworthy."

Anders paused, perusing her with his eyes. She slowly came to a halt while her skin tingled where his eyes caressed her. After finishing their tour of her, his eyes caught hers.

"You look… something. True. Proud. Like even if you don't agree with me, you'll be honest." His smile faded. "I just…" he paused, looking around. The street was empty except for the two of them. He continued. "I hope I didn't seem too selfish when I told you about Justice. I didn't know what would happen. I figured a willing host, a friend… it had to be better than playing the demon and haunting some corpse."

Her heart went out to him. This gentle man had joined with a Fade spirit out of friendship and compassion. She reached out her hand to link with his. "You did the right thing. We can't always predict the outcome of our actions. We can only make them with a true heart."

He laced his warm fingers with hers, pulling her closer to him. With his lips quirked in his small smile, he said, "Kind, wise, and beautiful. You must have made a deal with some demons, yourself." He stopped again, looking abashed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't presume. I just… we've hardly met and I feel like I know you." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Her heart was trying to escape from her chest. She was close enough to him that she could feel his warmth and breathe his herbal scent. His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand. If she just leaned in a little more, she could kiss him.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

Kattrin's breathing quickened but she couldn't stop smiling. He thought she was beautiful. She moved closer still. If she took a full breath, their chests would meet. "No. Keep telling me I'm beautiful. You can't go wrong with that."

His eyes glittered mischievously. "Oh, I'm sure I can get more creative."

Suddenly, he withdrew from her. Letting go of her hand, he began to walk away from her. "No. I shouldn't do this. I don't want to hurt you."

She felt as if someone had just doused her with cold water. Confused, she just watched him walk away. Recovering and moving quickly, she caught up to him, stumbling a little as she caught his arm. He stopped walking but he wouldn't look at her. "Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?"

He looked so sad. He kept his head down, refusing to look at her. "You saw what I did in the Chantry. That's who I am. A year ago, maybe we could have had something." His voice broke. "But I'm not that man anymore. I'll break your heart." And then, almost too soft for her to hear, he said, "And that might kill me as surely as the Templars."

He resumed their sojourn and she followed. They were both quiet as they descended the steps into Darktown. She didn't know how to feel. Yes, she found him attractive. And he certainly seemed to find her attractive, but he was conflicted. Then again what did she really know about him? Did he leave someone behind when he fled Fereldan? Maybe he was mourning a lost love. Well, she would give him any space he needed but she wasn't going let him go. If nothing else, she really needed a friend, especially a mage friend. Someone she could talk to about magic, who understood how hard it was to be a mage.

As they entered Darktown, she reached out with her senses. She and Anders had gone only a few feet from the stairs when they started being followed. She sensed desperation and hatred. Only two followers, but there could be more nearby. This didn't stop the mages from continuing towards the clinic. Anders didn't appear to notice their shadows but he could be pretending not to, just like her.

He looked sheepishly at her while they walked. "I'm sorry."

Kattrin smiled at him. "It's okay. I would still like to be your friend, if that's alright with you."

Anders stopped to look at her intently. He gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I already offered to help you learn spirit healing."

Kattrin shook her head at him. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Just be honest with me. If you want me to go, then I'll go."

He gave her an agonized look. "I'm not asking you to go. I would like to be your friend. I just can't give you more."

Suddenly, Anders turned, reaching for his staff. So he was just playing along. She followed his lead, reaching for her staff and turning to face whoever was trailing them. She saw the two men she had sensed by the stairs. They both bore the look of the Kirkwall downtrodden with their worn clothing hanging off their underfed bodies. One held a cudgel and the other a knife. Knife owner smiled, showing all of three teeth.

"You don' look like refugees ta me. Gimme yur coin an' I won' hurt'cha."

Kattrin was still feeling the effects of liquid courage and impaired judgment. "I certainly hope that you're not Coterie. Because, then I can kill you and get a nice reward for protecting their territory."

The man with the cudgel looked to the man with the knife. "Hector, I can't be havin' the Coterie afta me. You know they'll be afta me family first."

"If we kill'em, the Coterie won't know."

"But they has spies everywhere. I ain't gonna risk it." Showing surprisingly good manners, Cudgel bowed to Kattrin and Anders, retreating as he did so. "I'm sorry, messeres. Uh… good even' to ya." And with that he turned and fled, leaving his knife-wielding companion behind.

Anders turned to him. "So, what's it to be, friend? Do we dance, or were you leaving?"

The lone thug narrowed his eyes and secured his footing. Kattrin started pulling mana from the Fade, readying an ice spell. He started to back away before he quickly threw his knife in her direction. It seared through her gut causing her gathered mana to bleed back into the Fade. Distantly, she heard the clatter of her staff hitting the ground. She stumbled backwards and sat down hard. The pain of it stole her breath away. She saw a flash of blue light and heard a strangled scream, but both the light and sound were far away. She looked down at the knife handle in her middle, the blood running to both sides of her belly, making her wound look like a slash.

She saw Anders kneel over her, frowning, and tried to smile at him. He looked so worried. He placed one hand under her knees and the other behind her back. But as he began lifting her, agony suffused her body and everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

Anders heart raced as she gave a hoarse moan and went limp in his arms. He ran up the steps leading to the doors of his clinic only to realize he'd locked it. Cursing inwardly, he lowered her back to the ground as gently as he could, propping her against the wall. He fumbled in his pouch for the key. The key dodged his fingers, but when he finally caught it, pulling his hand from his pouch caused the key to twist out of his fingers and bounce once before clattering on the ground.

"Andraste's ass!" he swore before bending to retrieve the key and unlock the door. Finally swinging the door open, he ran back to Kattrin. Trying to be quick but gentle, he picked her back up and walked swiftly into the clinic. He softly deposited her onto the same cot from the previous evening. He jumped up for water and a clean rag before returning to her.

He slopped water across his arm in his haste. Pulling his stool close, he looked her over while taking a seat. She was pale but breathing. The dagger was still in her gut. With shaking hands, he slowly extracted the rusted blade from her flesh. Blood seeped from the wound faster than he liked. He suddenly recalled how much ale she'd consumed before the fight and felt all the blood drain from his face. He dropped the dagger as if burned. Hurriedly, he stripped her of her chainmail and her tunic and tossed them. He called out to the Fade for a spirit to assist him. Thankfully, his call was quickly answered by a spirit of compassion. He concentrated, blue light illuminating the dark clinic, as he checked the extent of the damage.

The blade had entered her just below the center of her ribcage, perforating some of her internal organs. But in addition to the dangerous substances released from her punctured organs, her body was also fighting the rust and other filth from the knife. He slowed his breathing, calming himself and making the healing light emanating from his hands grow brighter. He worked carefully on cleaning all of the toxins from her blood. It was a laborious process. Once that was done, he was shaking and sweating. Fighting his growing fatigue, he progressed step by step to healing her from the inside out, closing her organs, then her abdominal muscles, and finally her skin.

He felt the spirit of compassion retreat back into the Fade. Justice, who had taken over to eliminate the knife-throwing thug, was quiet. Anders calling on other spirits to aid his healing always subdued the spirit within him. Exhausted, he collapsed against the edge of the cot, thankful he was already sitting down. Folding his arms on the frame of the cot he pillowed his head, willing the room to stop spinning.

"Anders?"

He lifted his head from his arms to gaze into dark blue pools of confusion. Without thought, he unfolded his arms and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. His heart thundered in his chest and his hands trembled. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, breathing in the scent of her.

"Anders, are you alright?"

He gave a weak laugh and slowly released her. Drawing a deep breath, he said, "I'm not the one who took a knife through the middle." More gently, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. And grateful. Thank you." She leaned forward, closing her eyes, and kissed him softly on the lips. Desire shot through him, causing him to begin to harden. He wanted to return the kiss, wanted to taste her, but he couldn't. He leaned away from her before standing.

Justice had had enough. _You cannot let this girl distract you from the plight of the mages.__Focus beyond your baser needs._

Justice was right. Noticing for the first time that the clinic was dark, he walked around lighting the lanterns scattered throughout the room. How could she react like this to him? She had seen what kind of monster he was. How could he react like this to her? He was an aberration. She was pure and kind and he would only hurt her. Why couldn't he control himself around her? Trying to maintain his distance from Kattrin, he found that he had lit all the lanterns so he then piled wood into both fire pits. His thoughts continued to race. Why now? Why had she walked into his life now? After he had both fires going, he chanced looking back at her.

His eyes slid past Kattrin to the open door behind her. "Blast," he swore, advancing to close the door. Suddenly he remembered her dropping her staff. And then him dropping his staff to collect her. He rushed out of the clinic, praying that their staves were still there. He heaved a sigh of relief when he found them both where they had been left. With one staff in each hand, he stood but something caught his eye. There was a burn mark on the stone where the last thug had stood. But he didn't see any blood and there was no body. What had he and Justice done to that man? Had Kattrin been witness to the slaughter?

Anxiously, he turned toward the clinic to see her silhouetted in the doorway, watching him. Sighing, he started moving toward her. She was recovering and he needed to check on her. She could reinjure herself if she was up and about, and if he had missed any of the pollutants that had gotten into her system it would kill her slowly. His heart constricted painfully with that thought. As he got closer, he saw that she had his blanket draped around her again and he smiled.

"Anders, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath. No, he wasn't. "Yes," he said aloud, "but we left our staves out there. Let's get you back in bed."

He stepped around her to place their staves against the wall and closed the door. He then carefully swept her off her feet and into his arms. She felt good there against his chest. Reprimanding himself mentally, he helped her into a sitting position on the cot before sitting on his stool, facing her.

He needed to check and make sure she didn't hurt herself by getting up. She was still wrapped in his blanket. He gestured to where she held it closed and asked, "May I?"

She blushed as she parted the blanket to expose her breast-banded chest. Trying not to be distracted by her breasts, he examined the smooth expanse of bloody skin above her leggings. The blood there worried him at first but when he saw that none of it was fresh and relaxed. He shook his head at himself for not finishing the job, but at least the blood distracted him from her breasts. He was so exhausted that he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He used a little of his dwindling mana reserves to warm the water in the pot at his feet. Wetting a corner of the rag, he gently began to clean the drying blood off of her, ignoring his arousal. With the blood gone, he could see the new, pink skin healing nicely. His hands glowed blue with healing as he scanned her, checking for residual infection. He thanked the Maker when he didn't sense anything because he had depleted all of his mana reserves. He couldn't even sense the Fade right now. He stood and pulled his blanket closed around her before dropping heavily back onto his stool.

Kattrin sat somberly, eyes down, her hands twisting in her lap. "I'm sorry. Even after you told me we couldn't, I kissed you. I just… That's twice you've saved me today. I didn't mean to get so carried away."

He wanted to kick himself. He's the one who had grabbed her. He'd been so relieved that she was alright that it had just happened. He needed to watch himself more carefully around her. Justice grumbled his agreement.

_You have never reacted to a woman like this since we joined.__How is she different from the other women you've encountered?_

How indeed. Anders felt like he couldn't breathe. Taking a deep breath that didn't seem to satisfy his need for air, he reached for her hand. "No. I know what I said earlier, but this was my fault."

She continued to stare at her feet.

"Look at me." When she continued examining her toes, he added, "Please."

She looked up at him, causing tears to overflow from her sapphire eyes and slide down her face. Anders was sure he would die right there. He begged for it, in fact. Justice berated him. _These are only the first of many tears needed to end this infatuation with you._ That succeeded in infuriating him. Where is the justice in this? In hurting an innocent mage girl because she found him attractive? Wasn't that part of the injustice they were fighting? Didn't mages deserve the freedom to love and live their own lives? Justice was silent.

Trying to keep his anger off his face, he wiped the tears from hers. He whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm trying so hard not to hurt you and failing miserably."

She gave him a watery smile and sniffed delicately.

Anders wouldn't relent against Justice. She helped with Karl. So far, she has helped every person she has come across. Doesn't she represent the kind of justice that should be more prevalent in the world? Was it so wrong to admire her? Was it so wrong to love her?

Anders went still. His gaze flicked to Kattrin. Her smile faltered. He released her hand and stood. To reassure her he wasn't angry with her he brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "Let me make us some tea."

Moving away from her, he went through the motions of gathering water in the pot, adding leaves and spices and placing it over the fire while he tried to sort through the chaotic, emotional mess that was him and Justice. Could he love her? Dear Maker, he'd known her for all of two days. He looked at the stars through his high windows; soon to be three days.

Wait. They were both spirit healers, but she was untrained. Part of their talent was the ability to sense emotions in others. It was this sense that gave them the advantage to attract spirits instead of demons in the Fade. Andraste's ass, could she love him? While he acknowledged that they had both developed feelings for each other in the short time they had known one another, he, at least, knew that to love was to lose. But whatever this was between them was only growing stronger. Did they have some kind of emotional feedback loop occurring? He didn't remember anything similar happening between himself and Wynne. But, then again, Wynne had been the more experienced trainer. Did she have a parallel emotional experience with him? The tea was boiling, momentarily interrupting his thoughts. He removed the pot from the fire, deliberating. While he poured the tea, he decided he would need to be more careful with his reactions around her. He couldn't avoid her after offering to help her develop her talent but he would need to maintain distance between them. He would also need to do some in-depth research on spirit healers interacting with each other.

He added some honey to the tea before carrying both mugs to his seat in front of Kattrin. Passing her a mug, he asked, "Aside from my being an ass, how do you feel?"

She had regained her composure and sipped her tea before replying. "Sore. It hurts to do almost everything."

Anders nodded. "Stomach wounds do that. The body's core muscles go up through that general region and you use them for almost everything. I want you to rest for the next few days."

Kattrin nodded. "I'll try."

He set his tea down. Giving her his authoritative, healer voice, he said, "If you won't stay off your feet and rest, I'll keep you here in the clinic until I think you've healed enough to be up and about."

She smiled at him and he felt his heart quicken. Was this his reaction to her smile, or was this her reaction to him being concerned for her? Andraste's flaming sword, this was a mess.

Her smile faltered and she grew serious. "I don't want Bartrand's expedition to leave without me, and I still have a lot of money I need to earn. How long of a rest period are you suggesting?"

"How about you stay here tomorrow and watch me treat patients. We'll use the time for a lesson. I'll give you some parchment and a quill to take notes. Then we'll discuss what you observed, I'll check on your wound, and we'll see how you're feeling. Does that sound like a plan?"

Her smile lit up her being. "Yes, that sounds like a fine plan."

"Then it's settled." He stood, taking her mug of tea and placing it on his desk. "For now, you need to get some sleep."

Kattrin yawned and didn't protest about him helping her to lie down. Once again, he found himself tucking his blanket around her. He shook his head. He had a feeling that, despite his warnings about hurting her, this wouldn't be the last time she slept in his clinic with his blanket. He sighed, making a mental note to ask Lirene for another blanket. He took of his boots before falling onto his cot and almost instantly to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Kattrin came awake to the sound of a woman humming. It broke through the fog of her sleep because her mother didn't hum. She sang. Well, she used to. She sat up, blinking at the bright light. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw a small elven woman with dark hair sitting in the chair by the desk, humming while she stitched the new holes in Kattrin's armor closed.

Kattrin smiled. This must be the same friend that Anders had taken her armor to before. Not wanting to startle the woman, Kattrin cleared her throat.

The woman looked up briefly from her stitching and gave Kattrin a smile before returning to her work. "Good morning, messere. I hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't. Thank you for fixing my armor again. I'm Hawke."

"I'm Lysa. And don't worry about it, dear. I owe Anders a great debt. I like to help him when I can."

"Anders is a good man."

The woman smiled at her again, her large, brilliant green eyes dancing. "That he is." She continued with her sewing and humming her hauntingly beautiful tune.

Kattrin looked around. Anders was nowhere to be seen. Well, she might as well find something to keep herself busy until either her armor was fixed or Anders returned. Patting her hair she found it to be sticking out in several directions. Kattrin reached down, gritting her teeth against the pain, to her belt pouch and found her comb. She busied herself with pulling down her hair, combing it, and putting it back up in her usual chignon.

Just as she finished putting the last of the pins in her hair, the elven woman exclaimed that she was done. Standing, she brought the repaired garment over to Kattrin. Kattrin passed her Anders' blanket and replaced it with her padded shirt. The elven woman walked around her, inspecting her work before nodding her head.

She patted Kattrin on the arm. "I need to return to my children, dear. It was lovely to meet you. Tell Anders I said goodbye."

"I will."

"And, dear?"

"Yes?"

"Be good to the Healer. And take care of him." And with that, she left.

Kattrin was sure that her jaw was on the floor. Apparently, she was now Anders caretaker. Or his lover. Heat flashed through her. No, best not to go there.

Ignoring her own advice, she sat there, idly playing with her comb while thoughts of Anders danced in her head. Was he recovering from the loss of someone he had left behind? Maybe Karl had been his lover? That was an interesting thought. Surely he liked girls, judging from the way he reacted to her. Maybe it was his joining with Justice. Fade spirits didn't truly understand mortals. Yes, they embodied mortal virtues but they didn't seem to have much understanding of the full spectrum of virtues and emotions.

She heard panting at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. Anders struggled to get through the door while carrying two very laden baskets.

His look pinned her to her cot. He said sternly, "You stay right there."

Kattrin watched as he struggled through the door and across the clinic to place both baskets on the rickety desk. She wondered if the ancient piece of furniture would bear the weight. Anders produced wooden bowls and utensils and began pulling a feast out of the baskets. Once all the food was laid out precariously on the desk and the baskets were discarded on the floor, Kattrin realized where Anders had gone.

"I see my mother was true to her word about keeping you fed." She couldn't help the broad grin from splitting her face.

Anders gave her his small smile in return while passing her a filled bowl. He had given her an assortment of fruit, some ham, some cheese, a biscuit with jam, and a muffin. She pulled out the muffin first, smelling it. Mmm, mother's apple spice muffins. She gave a blissful sigh.

Anders was watching her. He had probably seen her sniff the muffin before making what she was sure was a silly face. She blushed. He arched a brow at her but only asked, "Would you like water or cider?"

"Water, please."

"Glad I asked," he said, filling a mug with cider. He filled another with water and handed it to her.

Once all both of them were seated with their bowls of food, Kattrin bit into her muffin. She watched Anders follow her lead, biting into his muffin first, also. His eyes widened and he ate the rest of the muffin in one bite. His then stretched his hand to the desk to retrieve two more muffins. She started to laugh but it ended in a groan.

Anders swallowed his mouthful of muffin, giving her a clinical look. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Sore. It hurts to laugh."

Stuffing one muffin in his mouth, he balanced the other muffin atop the rest of his food while setting his bowl on the corner of the desk.

As he stood, reaching for his stool, she said, "No, please don't get up. I'm fine. I'm just a little sore."

He stood there looking at her and chewing his mouthful of muffin. Finally he sat back down on his cot and reached for his bowl.

He finished swallowing his muffin before speaking. "Alright. But, don't try healing yourself just yet. I want to learn more about your methods first. Let me know if your pain gets worse and I'll help. We can make it a learning opportunity." His voice softened, his golden-brown eyes imploring her, "Just, please, be extra careful today." He then pointed to her bowl and his tone became more authoritative. "And eat. You were healed three times and lost a lot of blood yesterday."

She tried to force herself not to watch him as he ate. She ate the fruit in the bowl without really tasting it. Everything he did called to her, pulling her closer to him. She didn't know what to do about her attraction to him. She had never felt like this before. Sure, Rylan had caught her eye but she had to work to get his attention. She had been a girl on the outlying farms and he had lived in town. Once she had his attention, though, he wasn't able keep his hands off her. But, she didn't feel the same pull to Rylan that she felt with Anders. She had Anders attention without really trying, although he was resisting her. Was it because he was a mage? The only two mages in her life prior to Anders had been her father and her sister, so she had no basis for comparison. She drank him in with her eyes; the broadness of his shoulders, his muscular arms, the angle of his jaw, the way his slight frame narrowed at his hips. The way his long tapered fingers brought food to his sensual lips. He met her eyes and she looked away, her face hot. She gave herself a mental shake. She needed to work at being his friend not watching him like a piece of meat.

Thinking of meat, she looked into her bowl only to discover that while she was thinking she had devoured all the food Anders had given her. And she was still hungry. She looked up at Anders but before she could say anything, he wordlessly took her bowl. He looked like a chipmunk with how much food he stuffed into his mouth. She smiled broadly but remembered not to laugh.

After inhaling her second bowl of food, she just sat and watched Anders consume the rest of the huge spread.

Swallowing another mouthful, Anders took a drink of cider and asked her, "Since I need to know more about how you cast spells, we'll be doing some exercises."

"How I cast spells?"

Anders had taken another bite, so she waited for him to finish. "Yes. I'm going to observe you while you cast a few spells. Your battle magic is impressive but I've only watched from afar. And I've never seen you heal."

Kattrin felt her face get hot at his praise. Anders was watching her, sporting his crooked smile.

"In fact, I would like to learn that fancy firestorm you concocted yesterday."

He didn't know how to summon a firestorm? "I've seen you cast ice and lightning. How much elemental and primal magic do you know?"

"Hey, I'll have you know I can also throw a mean fireball." He pointed his finger at her.

She grinned at him. "Okay, I'll grant you that. I did see you throw some mean fireballs." She tilted her head. "Anything else?"

He chuckled. "Very little, I'm afraid."

Kattrin suddenly felt like she had something to repay him with for helping her to learn more about spirit healing. He might be Circle trained, but her father had been, too. Her father had taught both her and Bethany every spell he learned from the Circle and but he had also taught them others spells he had picked up as both an apostate and a mercenary.

"How about we trade? You teach me spirit healing and I teach you everything else I know." She couldn't help her superior smile or arched brow.

"Alright, sweetheart. That sounds like a fair deal. But, if I don't learn anything new we'll have to revisit this bargain." He was looking at her playfully. The same way she was probably looking at him. This was to be a battle of wills then.

"Very well, I accept. Where would you like to start?"

"Well, being as that it looks bad for a healer to be casting firestorms in his own clinic, and I don't want you to be up and about just yet, we'll stick to the planned healing lesson."

And then she went and spoiled the mood. She couldn't stop from laughing which hurt more this time than last time, causing her to double over in pain. She watched Anders go from animated and teasing to serious in a flash. He placed his empty bowl on the desk before jumping up. He didn't even bother grabbing his stool, just simply knelt before her. He started to lift her shirt but she removed the rolled fabric from his hands and drew it up as far as her breasts. She felt him pull from the Fade as his hands started glowing. She felt the itchy tingling she associated with healing as well as relief as the pain receded before he removed his hands.

He looked at her accusingly, brows drawn and frowning. "What did you do this morning?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "I didn't do anything this morning."

"I doubt that. You re-opened part of your injury."

"I sat up. I watched Lysa sew my armor back together. I put my tunic back on. I fixed my hair…" Her voice trailed off. "I bent over to reach the comb in my pouch. I bet that was it. That was the only thing I did that hurt besides laughing."

His brow furrowed as he helped her to re-cover herself. He remained kneeling before her but he wouldn't look at her. "I'm sorry." He sounded so heartbroken.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching for him.

He started to stand but she caught his hands and pulled gently, keeping him from standing. He could have easily released himself from her light hold but he didn't. He was always running away from her. What was he so afraid of?

"Look at me." She kept her voice soft and reassuring.

He sat back on his heels with his head down.

"Anders, you can't beat yourself up for making me laugh," she said gently.

"No, but I can be upset you got hurt walking me home. This never would have happened if I had taken you home instead."

Kattrin was at a loss. She mentally flailed, trying to find something comforting and reassuring to say but everything that came to mind sounded half-hearted and uncaring.

"Every time I'm around you, you get hurt. I don't want to hurt you." His whisper was almost inaudible.

She drew in a deep breath. If only he knew how many times she'd gotten hurt before she had ever met him. In her year as a mercenary, she and Carver had gotten hurt almost more times than she could count. She didn't have many scars, which she felt was a testament to her skill, but the deepest scars she carried didn't leave any marks on her skin. She was only a little broken, due to the loss of her home, her father, and her sister, but she was picking up the pieces. She sensed that Anders was far more broken than she was. Her impulse was to pull him to her and hold him but she knew that would only push him away. She could help him, if he would only let her. Lysa's words suddenly echoed in her head. _Be good to the Healer.__And take care of him._ She felt Fate's hand yet again.

"Then teach me to heal," she said, maintaining her soft tone.

"Magic can't heal everything," Anders countered, his voice breaking.

"You're right." Surprised, he looked up, his honey colored eyes meeting hers. "Magic can't bring back my father or my sister. Magic can't feed my family and it certainly can't always keep me safe from the Templars. But while I live and breathe, it can fix this." She pointed to her stomach. "Help me learn to fix the things I _can_ fix with magic."

Keeping hold of one of his hands, she released the other and placed her free hand on the side of his face. Encouraged that he didn't pull away, she continued. "And for all the things that magic can't fix, that's what friends are for."

He removed her hand from his face but held it in his own. Looking down at their hands, he said, "You make it sound like friends never hurt each other."

"All people hurt each other, and friends are no different. The exception is that a true friend would never hurt you intentionally."

He remained silent, looking down and kneeling before her while she held one of his hands and he held one of hers.

Feeling an emptiness inside her, she continued. "I could really use a friend. A friend who understands the burdens of magic and the true consequences to being caught by the Templars. And, while I can't promise that we won't hurt each other at some point, I can promise that I will try my best to be a good friend."

He looked up and met her gaze. Then she smiled at him and said, "And I'll try to keep the comments about your sexy, tortured look to myself."

He gave a shaky laugh and removed his hands from hers to reach for his stool. Sitting, he stretched his legs out in front of him, under her cot. She wondered if he realized he was still just as close to her as he had been kneeling.

"Are you sure you're not the Warden-Commander?"

She just looked at him, puzzled. Where did that come from? She collected herself enough to ask, "The Hero of Fereldan?"

He nodded.

"Why would you ask me that?"

He smiled and his eyes twinkled. "Because you sounded just like her with your motivational speech."

She returned his smile. "I take it she found you difficult, too?"

His eyes got a faraway look but he kept smiling. "Yes, she did. But for entirely different reasons."

She gave a slight shake of her head. The Witch of the Wilds had hinted that not all of the Grey Wardens in Fereldan were lost. And stories of the Blight told that there were no Grey Warden reinforcements. The Blight was won with only two Grey Wardens, who were now King and Queen of Fereldan. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she added up all the facts.

"You were recruited into the Grey Wardens by the Queen of Fereldan?" Her voice conveyed the awe she felt.

Anders still had that faraway look when he sighed. "Yes."

"What is she like?"

"She's brave and selfless. But, she's a very private person. And besides, I don't really want to talk about my time with the Wardens."

Kattrin smiled and nudged one of Anders' legs with her foot, getting his attention. "Don't ever let Varric get wind of what you just told me."

She watched as Anders eyes widened in horror. "Andraste's flaming knickers, no! I would never have any peace!"

She gave a small laugh. It hurt but it only made her wince. "Well, he already knows you're a Warden from Fereldan. And he's heard the stories about the Hero of Fereldan. It's only a matter of time before he figures it out."

Anders groaned and hunched over, elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. Then he lifted his head while dragging his hands across his face, distorting his handsome features. Something crossed his mind because he narrowed his eyes and he pierced her with a look.

"When we go into the Deep Roads, I want your promise that you won't leave me alone with him."

She wanted to go back to light hearted joking and teasing, so she said, "Who said I was taking you with me into the Deep Roads?"

He blinked at her. "Maker knows I certainly don't want to go back into the Deep Roads, but you need me. I've been to the blighted Deep Roads, I know the dangers. And as a Warden, I have the ability to sense if darkspawn are near, which no one else in your expedition can do."

Kattrin acted as if she were weighing his side of the argument. "Hmm. I don't know. Need is such a strong word for just the one skill. What else makes Grey Wardens so special?"

Anders watched her, his confusion giving way to understanding as he realized she was teasing him. He narrowed his eyes at her but couldn't stop his small, crooked smile from appearing. "Well, that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"That depends on who you ask."

He tapped the end of her nose with the first finger on his hand before standing up and moving toward the desk. She was relieved to see him cheerful again.

She watched as he put one basket inside of the other, his movements calm and careful. He reached for his bowl and placed it in the double basket before turning back to her. She picked up her bowl where it sat beside her and he gently took it from her. He exuded this kind and gentle demeanor, always careful of what he was doing. It was very befitting of a healer.

After he finished cleaning up breakfast, he turned to her. Was he blushing?

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to wash up."

Now she was blushing too. She stared intently at the elfroot growing below the window. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Please, don't mind me. I promise I'll stay right here. Do you… um… have something I can do while you…?" Maker help her, she couldn't finish.

"Yes, um…" He looked around, one hand in his hair, the other on his hip. He quickly grabbed some parchment off his desk and handed it to her. His eyebrows drew down and he went back to the desk for quill and ink. Passing her those, he straightened, crossing one arm over his chest while the other tapped his lips. His eyes widened and he quickly strode to a crate in the back. Bent over, he rummaged around inside. She tried not to stare at the fine curvature of his backside.

"Here we go!" he exclaimed, and made his way back to her with an enormous and very old tome.

He softly laid the large book in her lap and she read the cover aloud. _"__The Encyclopedia of Healing Herbs._"

"That should keep you busy."

Kattrin pasted a smile on her face and nodded. Anders smiled back and left her to gather his bath items before retreating to the rear of the clinic where a large span of cloth was hung. Thankfully, the cloth was long enough to cover floor to ceiling and almost wide enough to stretch from wall to wall. There was a gap from where the cloth ended before reaching the far wall, about the size of most doors, creating an artificial wall. She wouldn't be able to see him but it would be a poor barrier against sound.

She looked down at the large, leather-bound book in her lap in despair. Her father had taught her how to find ingredients and make potions from this very book. She had nothing to distract her from the tortures of listening to Anders bathe. Just the idea of him being naked on the other side of the room made her shiver with desire. She closed her eyes and prayed as she heard water being pumped into a vessel, then being poured into a larger basin. The sound repeated, growing less hollow with each repetition until the basin was filled. But the torture was only beginning.

She felt the pull of mana from the Fade as he warmed his bath water. She heard the soft thud of a boot hitting the ground followed by the other. Then the muted clank of his belt and pouch. After that came the whispered rustling of him shedding his clothing. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth and balling her fists in a futile attempt to fight against mental images of a nude Anders.

With her eyes closed she became more aware of her body. Her mouth was dry but her hands and skin tingled with sensation. She felt heat pooling between her legs. She could smell the elfroot and other healing herbs that permeated the clinic but she could also smell the musky scent of the man who lived within. She heard her own shallow breathing and the creaking of her body as she clenched and unclenched her hands. For a moment the clinic was totally silent. Then she heard the soft lap of water as he entered the bath, followed by an almost inaudible sigh.

If she could have gotten up off her cot without hurting herself, she would have fled the clinic and Darktown upon hearing that pleasurable exhalation. As much as she wanted to be away from the clinic, she wanted to be there in the bath with him even more. Kattrin didn't understand her physical reaction to him. Yes, she had wanted to do more with Rylan than just kiss him but she had never gotten that chance. The night that Rylan had started to undress her in the twilight of the barn, Carver had crashed against the outside of the barn, pushed there by a passion crazed Peaches. That had been the end of her sexual exploration since Rylan's family had fled before the encroaching Blight. She felt the same fire in her blood without even touching Anders that she had experienced after hours of kissing and touching Rylan. Maybe it was a good thing that Anders just wanted to be friends. If they ever achieved the desperate need that she and Rylan had reached before Carver ruined it, they would burn down a building.

Every one of her thoughts was punctuated by a splash of water, the sound of scrubbing, or another sigh or groan from Anders' lips. She felt hot all over, her heart was hammering in her chest, and there was an ache at the apex of her thighs the likes of which she had never felt before. If she had been alone, she might explore that ache with her fingers, her desperation was so great. What would Anders think if he found her in this state? She was probably flushed and she trembled ever so slightly, even without clenching her fists.

She needed to get a hold of herself, to calm down before he finished his bathing. She opened her eyes and unclenched her fists to open the herbal encyclopedia as quietly as she could. She was shaking enough to have trouble turning the pages. She tried to pay attention to the herbs drawn so beautifully on the pages but the splashing and scrubbing noises made it hard to concentrate.

Eventually, the Maker showed her mercy. There was a sonorous pouring of water followed by another and a loud sputtering noise. Then there was a clamorous splash and the sound of water dripping repeatedly. She heard Anders toweling off and getting re-dressed. She offered a silent prayer to the Maker for not continuing her torment. While he became presentable, Kattrin concentrated on slowing her heart rate and calming herself down. It didn't do anything for the ache between her legs but she hoped that she didn't look desperate for a tumble. An image of Peaches came to mind where her hair was in disarray, her lips red and swollen, her skin flushed, her eyes dilated, and smelling very musky. Andraste's ass, she had better not look or smell anything like that

Anders walked back into the main part of the clinic, looking like he did before he left with the exception of his hair being visibly wet in his half ponytail. He smelled of herbal soap. She half wondered if he made his own soap with his herbal expertise.

He looked at her, frowning slightly. He walked right up to her and laid his hand on her forehead. She felt him use his magic before she saw the blue glow. He withdrew his hand, still frowning. Walking to a cabinet next to his desk, he opened the door and pulled out a bottle. Walking back to her, he took the chipped mug she had been drinking water out of and poured the contents of the bottle into the mug. He handed the mug to her.

She smelled elfroot, catnip, and peppermint. She smiled as she sipped the potion. She must be flushed and warm to the touch.

Anders was still standing over her, watching her. Still smiling, she said, "Elfroot, catnip, and peppermint to help reduce fever. Thank you."

His eyes widened and he gave his small smile. "Did you just learn that or is that something your father taught you?"

She chewed her lower lip. She should be honest about her potion brewing abilities but then he would know that she just sat and listened to him bathe. Then he might come to a different conclusion about her "fever." She sighed. Her father had taught her that the base to build upon for all relationships was trust.

Looking down at her drink, she said, "My father taught me everything in that book plus some other potions and herbal remedies he picked up as a mercenary."

Anders pulled the chair out from his desk and sat on it backwards, his arms folded over the back. "That very same book?"

She continued looking into her drink. "Yes."

"Very well. Let's see what you know."

He spent the next hour grilling her. What was a good poultice to reduce pain on an open wound? Wintergreen, rosemary, deathroot, and elfroot. Why were equal parts deathroot and elfroot needed? Deathroot increases blood circulation but is poisonous; elfroot is used to counteract the poisons. What helped with cough? Eucalyptus and caraway. What helped with joint pain? White willow, deathroot and elfroot. What eased stomach pain? Red elm and peppermint. On and on it went, his grilling and her answering. Finally, he stopped asking questions and just sat there looking at her.

She smiled at him asked him a question. "How can you hide being able to sense the Fade if a Templar suspects you're a mage?"

Anders crossed his arms with his brows drawn but made no move to speak.

Kattrin answered her own question. "Ingest magebane."

His eyebrows went up at that. "I knew that a poison could be created from magebane to sap a mage of their mana, but I never considered its other uses. I can see why your father managed to stay an apostate long enough to raise a family."

Kattrin's smile faded. "He only ingested magebane twice - once before he met my mother and again the day they were married. He never told us why he did the first time, but he did tell both my sister and me that he was left unable to sense the Fade or cast a single spell for almost three days. It's not without consequences."

He watched her. She couldn't read his expression but she could guess he might be thinking about what would make a mage desperate enough to consume magebane to avoid detection by the Templars.

In the silence that stretched between them, she heard faint groaning. Anders looked up, hearing it too. He stood and swiftly cleared the distance to the door of his clinic, exiting into Darktown. He walked slowly back, half carrying a dirty and disheveled man. Anders was holding one of the man's arms around his own shoulders while his other arm was around the man's waist. Kattrin could see the man was trailing blood, leaving a single red foot print and several ruby drops with each step. She wished she could get up and help but she didn't want to take Anders' attention away from the injured man.

Anders led him to stand before her and briefly left him to bring another cot. The man teetered like a sapling in a strong wind and Kattrin began raising her arms in case she needed to catch him. Anders slid another cot between Kattrin's and his desk, gently helping the man to sit. He then left to grab a bowl of water, a clean rag, and his low stool. They made a kind of triangle with the two cots and Anders' stool.

Anders pulled the knife he kept at his belt and began to slice through one side of the man's pants, gently separating and pulling the cloth free of the blood and the wound beneath. The then took her clean hand in his bloodied one and placed it on the man's leg.

"Gently reach into the Fade and pull the merest breath of mana."

Kattrin reached to the Fade and pulled the smallest thread of mana she could manage.

Keeping his hand on hers, he said, "Good. Now, stretch your senses and feel his skin, his muscles, his bones. Feel his blood pumping through his leg."

She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, instantly feeling the man's pain. She tried to pull back but Anders kept her hand.

"It's okay," he said, soothingly in his mellifluous voice. "It's not your pain. Push past the pain to feel the body's architecture."

She reached out with her mind again, feeling the pain but moving past it. She felt the man's erratic pulse as if it were a part of her. She continued reaching and felt the blood moving in his leg, gathering at a rend in his flesh. She was reminded of a wooden puzzle her father had while she was growing up. If you put the pieces together just so, it made a cube. She could see the pieces of muscle, tendon, and skin and how they would fit back together.

Anders brought her back to herself with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "Not yet. Pull your mana back and reach out to the Fade again but this time picture the damage wrought and ask for help."

Kattrin pulled the tiny thread of mana back and reached again for the Fade. She felt Anders' spirit of Justice first but sensed that his would be the wrong kind of help. Reaching she called in her mind for help, imagining the damage she had sensed within the man's leg. She felt a calming and comforting presence reach back offering compassion for the wounded man. The spirit of compassion reached out past her to where she sat with the man. Kattrin felt the mana flow into her, travelling through her chest out to her arms and her hands. She found the torn pieces of the man's flesh again and this time Anders didn't stop her as she separated the man from his pain while helping his body to put the damaged pieces together, to knit themselves back into whole blood vessels, whole muscle, and whole skin.

She felt the approval from the spirit of compassion before she departed, taking the flow of mana with her. Kattrin suddenly felt drained in the spirit's absence and opened her eyes.

The man was smiling at her. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I thought I would lose the leg for sure. Maker bless you."

She smiled back at the man. He stood up but Anders stood with him and gently pushed him back down.

"Hold on a minute. Let me get you a potion to help your body with the recovery and a staff for you to walk with. Your leg will be sore for a couple of days and you shouldn't put too much weight on it."

Anders walked to the back of the clinic, returning with a cane. He stopped at the medicine cabinet and withdrew a bottle. He handed both to the man before helping him to stand.

The man's smile faded and he looked at his feet. "I have nothing to offer for payment."

Anders clasped the man on his shoulder causing him to look up. "The only payment I ask is that you keep our secret. Please don't bring the Templars down on us."

The man nodded. "Of course. I would never betray you to the Templars." He walked past Anders to the door where he paused, turning back. "Maker bless you both," he said and exited the clinic.

Anders sat down on the unoccupied cot across from Kattrin. He was smiling at her, light dancing in his eyes.

"You're a natural."

Her heart sped up and she felt her face get hot. "Thank you."

Their conversation was cut short by a woman coming in. She was sporting a black eye, covered in bruises and cradling her arm. The clinic became an unrelenting stream of broken and bleeding people. Anders did most of the healing but had her heal every third or fourth person. They stayed within their close triangle with the current patient sitting on the unoccupied cot across from Kattrin while Anders resided on his stool. They touched the whole day. Either she had her hand on his to watch and feel the flow of his healing or he had his hand on hers to observe her healing. He didn't instruct her again, just focused on their combined task. Even though most of the mana came from the spirits who assisted her, each patient left her more drained. It was a test of endurance to maintain her focus when the number of injured people seemed infinite.

After healing a boy with a broken arm, she looked up to Anders to tell him that she needed a rest only to find the clinic was empty. The boy had been the last of the crowd.

Anders dark honey gaze met hers briefly before he rested his already glowing hand on her cheek. She must look as drained as she felt. Now that she was familiar with his healing technique, she felt him delve into her. As she had been doing all day, she followed his thread of mana to her own recovering injury. She could sense that her internal organs were almost done healing but her muscle and skin were fully recovered. Then she felt mana flow from him into her, bringing with it a rejuvenating energy. When he removed his hand, she felt as if she had awakened from a much needed nap.

"How is it you're still able to use your magic to help me? I'm so worn out I probably couldn't even light a candle."

He gave her his crooked smile. "The Warden's renowned endurance."

Kattrin's eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline. She had to bite her tongue to stop from asking him if his stamina stretched to other activities. Her mind went to images of kissing him before she could stop herself. Thankfully, her stomach chose then to start growling, helping to distract her from his mouth.

Still smiling, he helped her up. Kattrin only felt the barest twinge from her body. She grinned back at him.

"Come on. We need to get you something to eat."

She started walking with him before saying, "I bet I'm not the only one who's hungry. Come home with me and have another wonderful meal made by my mother."

He gestured for her to lead the way. "When you put it that way, how could I possibly say no?"


	10. Chapter 10

The next day Anders made his way up the three flights of stairs from Darktown into Lowtown. He strode purposefully through the sun lit stone walls of the city, past the groups of people milling about, past the alienage, and up the stairs to Gamlen's home. Mentally preparing himself for the subdued version of a mabari charge, he knocked on the door.

"What is it?" he heard Gamlen grouse as the door opened. "It's you," he sneered and walked away, leaving the door open.

Anders entered the small dwelling cautiously, closing the door behind him.

"Hello, Anders." Leandra called. "Kattrin is at the market and should be returning shortly." She eyed him critically from her spot in front of the fireplace. "You're so thin. Would you like me to fix you something to eat?"

He smiled at her concern. "No, thank you."

"As you wish. Please, make yourself at home."

Gamlen grunted his disapproval. He stood against the desk along the left wall, arms crossed and glaring. Anders started to move away from the entrance and Gamlen when Deimos nudged his leg, almost knocking him down.

Anders warily turned to face the beast. The mabari grinned in dog fashion, tongue out and dripping saliva. This short tail wagged so hard the rest of his body shook with the action. Anders crossed his arms. He was not going to touch the slobbering mongrel.

Deimos was having none of his resistance. He barked joyfully, prancing around in a circle before facing Anders again, tongue lolling and tail wagging.

"Stop looking at me," he told the mabari. Deimos cocked his head in question, causing a long trail of drool to stretch to the floor. Anders couldn't repress his shudder. _That is truly disgusting!_

Deimos barked again. He remembered reading an old tome on mabari detailing how intelligent the breed is. Maybe he could explain himself and the dog would leave him alone.

Another long rope of saliva slithered to the floor.

"I-I really don't like all this… open… slobbery… affection."

Deimos gave out a happy bark, still grinning. Apparently, he wasn't accepting Anders' disparity. Cats didn't do this! Pounce would happily ride within his robes, sleeping or just taking in the scenery. When the cat required something, he would just obstinately refuse to budge until he was noticed and given what he desired in a satisfactory fashion.

"Be a real pet!" he complained. "Ignore me until you want something and then sit on my head!"

Deimos cocked his head and whined in confusion.

Anders sighed, the loss of his feline friend squeezing his heart. Damn the wardens for making him leave Pounce behind. "I miss Ser Pounce-a-Lot."

Kattrin's musical laugh made him look up, thoughts of his cat scattering. She stood in the doorway with a small package. Apparently during his exchange with the dog, he'd missed her return. Relief flooded him. Now that she was here, he wouldn't have to endure any further awkwardness with either Deimos or Gamlen, who was still staring daggers at him.

"Kattrin, I'm glad you're here." _A serious understatement, that._ The thought made him smile. "I was hoping you could accompany me."

She returned his smile as she walked past him, making her way to the table by the fireplace to set her parcel down. "Always. Give me a moment and I'm all yours."

She was such an incorrigible flirt with him. Before his current circumstances, he would have greatly enjoyed a beautiful woman flirting with him. Few ever had outside of the Circle. But those small exceptions notwithstanding, he was usually the one doing the flirting. It was truly a shame that he couldn't encourage her as he would have previously.

Ignoring her allusion, he curiously watched her pull the twine off the parcel and peel away the paper. Inside were a collection of fruits, some flour, a large ham bone, and a bottle of wine. Gamlen walked up behind Kattrin, snagged the bottle, and left the room. Kattrin just shook her head.

"Well, Deimos, seeing Anders is in one piece means that you still deserve this."

Deimos bounded over to her and then sat at her feet, giving his best illusion of being a well behaved dog.

Kattrin tossed the bone a little ways from where he was sitting so that he needed to scramble to catch it. It hit the ground before he snatched it up. The mabari then retreated underneath the table near the door to savor his treat in private.

"Thank you for going to the market, dear," Leandra said from the fireplace. "Will you be home for supper?"

Kattrin looked over to him.

"I'm not sure how long this will take," Anders replied.

"I understand," her mother said. "I'm not sure when Carver will be home either. I'll use the fruit to bake more muffins for breakfast instead of pie for this evening."

The thought of more of Leandra's baking made his mouth water. Kattrin winked at him conspiratorially and he knew she intended to bring him muffins with breakfast tomorrow. He found himself smiling again. She and her mother were determined to keep him fed. And apparently spoil him in the process.

Leandra made a shooing motion toward them. "Well, you'd best be off. Please be careful, dear."

Kattrin responded that she would before turning to him. "Let's go."

She followed him out to the landing and down the stairs before asking where they were headed.

This was not the place to openly discuss magic. "Can we speak privately?" he asked, motioning his head toward Darktown. Kattrin nodded her assent.

They retraced Anders's earlier steps back into Darktown in companionable silence. From there, he led her in the opposite direction of his clinic to a passageway that led out of Kirkwall. Once they were inside and the hatch was secured, he turned to her.

"I still need to observe how you cast non-healing spells. I figured we could go out to the Wounded Coast and terrorize the thugs hiding out there."

"Well, let's give those thugs a good thrashing," she said, cracking her knuckles.

Maker, she was going to be trouble today. Shaking his head, Anders moved further into to the cavern. He led the way through the twists and turns of the passageway until moss covered stone gave way to sand covered stone. A burst of wind ruffled the feathers of his paulderons as they exited the cave. The sky was still bright but there were dark clouds in the distance. He estimated that they still had a couple of hours before the storm came in. Plenty of time for spell work and perhaps even enough time to get Kattrin home for dinner.

He led her up the sandy paths to follow the trail west toward the darkening sky. The silence stretched as they traveled. Maybe she would ease up on the flirty and playful banter? _The day is still young,_ he supposed.

The trip was so far uneventful but Anders could live without facing bandits. They didn't need live targets to cast spells. When the path forked, they followed the winding trail south, then east, then south again to a round area where the remains of the ancient stone walls buffered them from the spray of the sea.

Anders surveyed the area before turning to her.

"Alright. Let's see what you can do."

Kattrin looked around, frowning. "But there are no bandits."

He couldn't help his smile or his laugh. "I'm sure you can summon some fierce elemental magic without needing to thrash a few highway men."

Color bloomed in her porcelain features while her lower lip was pulled between her white teeth. Anders breath hitched as desire surged through him. What he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into that lusciously plump lip. Fighting the sudden need she'd awoke in him, he moved further away from her and closer to the arc of crumbling walls, locating a crate that would serve as his seat.

Slightly calmer, he turned to her. "Now, take this slowly, as you would have when you were first learning, as if your father was instructing you. I need to observe the fundamentals of your casting technique. To see how you direct the Fade energies."

Kattrin was no longer biting her lip and had assumed a wide, loose stance. She nodded solemnly and removed her staff from the holder on her back. "What should I start with?"

"Let's start with the basics. Conjuring fire, ice, stone, and lightning. We'll work up to the larger spells from there."

Nodding again, Kattrin closed her eyes. He felt her pull mana from the Fade, more than she really needed, but then she slowly and meticulously went through the motions and summoned a small ball of fire to her hand. Exhaling, she opened her eyes.

Anders sat in stunned silence. Her technique mirrored his own training down to the last detail. Her father must have worked hard to mimic the lessons of the Circle to educate his daughters. _Such a mage would have been a tremendous ally in the fight to free mages._ If only he could have met the remarkable Malcom Hawke.

As the silence stretched into awkwardness, Anders remembered himself. Nodding to Kattrin, he said, "Very well done."

She cast ice next, followed by stone and then lightning. All were cast with the precision of a Circle trained mage. Justice approved her form and discipline. _This is proof that mages can master themselves without the constant abuses of the Templars._ Anders was certain that any Templar would easily mistake her for a Harrowed mage.

"Your father must have been an extraordinary teacher," Anders murmured. Recalling something Kattrin had mentioned to him, he said, "I think his wondering if you would benefit from Circle training was just self-doubt on his part."

Kattrin gave him an alluringly shy smile. He found himself looking at her full lips again, wondering how soft and pliant they were. Would she open for him and grant him entrance to explore with his tongue? Images of kissing her obstructed his vision. While their tongues danced, he would run her up against that wall, seemingly placed behind her for exactly that reason. Would she moan? Gasp? Call his name?

Justice berated him. _You are here for instruction.__Restrain your lust filled thoughts._

Kattrin was watching him watch her. With his heart hammering in his chest, he looked away. He felt her move toward him. Hoping she didn't notice how flustered he was, he looked up to see her offering her hand. Unsure of the strength of his resolve, he let her pull him from his seat before he moved away from her. He needed to keep his distance. If she chose that moment to push, he didn't know if he could hold against her. _She deserves better,_ he reminded himself. And, thank the Maker, she remained where she was.

"Are you okay?"

No, he wasn't. But he couldn't tell her he was thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. What had he been thinking before that?

"I was just thinking that your magical education at the hands of your father is evidence that mages can master themselves without being locked away in the Circle. It could become a place of learning without the need for Templar guards."

"So, does that mean it's my turn as teacher?" She wagged her eyebrows at him eagerly.

He couldn't help but laugh. She had the ability to disarm him of both his anger and his willpower. The former was a gift from the Maker. The latter was his biggest challenge. With his self-control restored, he moved to stand in front of her.

"No, the incoming storm ensures that must wait for another day."

They both looked to the west toward the roiling black clouds. The sky was growing darker by the minute. It wasn't raining yet but it would only be a short time before the skies would open and drench them.

"I do have one more test, but we should head back before we get caught in the storm."

This time Kattrin lead them back to the tunnels. They made their way quickly along the sandy paths and reached the entrance ahead of the storm.

Anders then took the lead and led her to widest part of the cavern. Since they hadn't encountered another soul on their little field trip, he was confident no one would discover them but he walked the perimeter anyway, just to make sure. Satisfied they were alone, he stopped in front of her.

"Alright, the final test. I want you to reach into the Fade and pull as much mana as you can. Don't cast anything. Simply hold it."

She nodded and closed her eyes again. He felt her pull from the Fade. He was expecting her to be able to hold quite a large amount of mana given her ability to pull off that firestorm of hers but he was amazed to discover she easily matched him in power. Practically glowing with the mana she held, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

Critically, he watched her, looking for signs of strain. The more mana a mage could pull from the Fade, the less susceptible they were to all but the most powerful demons. Demons respected power and a powerful mage with a strong will was something to wary of. But the stronger demons coveted that same power.

Kattrin continued to hold the gathered Fade energies. She was calm and exhibited no sign of strain. As the minutes ticked by, his proximity to her while she held such a large amount of mana was causing his skin to itch, making him want to reach into the Fade himself. A loud crack of thunder echoed through the tunnels. The storm was nearing. And still she held her enormous quantity of arcane energy. Just as the rain started outside, her hand shook ever so slightly. She clenched the betraying extremity into a fist. She exhibited no other signs of strain. If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he wouldn't have seen it. More time passed as the echoing of the rain hammering the stones grew in intensity. The winds were whistling through the passageways when she closed her eyes, her face starting to show the effort of continuing to contain the magic. Soon after, she was trembling from head to toe, eyes squeezed shut, her mouth drawn down and pinched. Her strength continued to amaze him. With the Fade energies continuing to call to him, Justice began to come to the forefront of his mind. Even though he knew that she could hold out longer, he told Kattrin to release her magic back into the Fade. They didn't need Justice accosting her. With the Fade energies dissipating, Justice remembered himself and retreated back to the depths of Anders' mind.

"Simply amazing," he said.

She gave him an exhausted smile.

"You know, you are close to equaling me in power. You'll surpass me in healing, eventually. Probably within the next five years."

She laughed. "Now you're just teasing me. I don't think anyone could surpass you in healing."

Anders reached for her hand. "No, I'm serious. Your casting mirrors any Circle mages' training and your magical strength would be sufficient to pass the Harrowing. I bet any Templar would mistake you for a Harrowed mage." He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze before releasing it. "I'm impressed with your training. You're living proof that mages can entrusted with teaching their children the necessary abilities, along with the discipline needed, to use magic without succumbing to demons."

She blushed again, but Anders was too busy admiring her for it to affect him. She looked down at her feet, rolling a rock around with the toe of her boot.

"Come on. Let's try to get you home in time for dinner."

Smiling, she followed him. He led them back to Darktown while his thoughts kept returning to how powerful a mage Kattrin is. She would surpass him in both strength and power and it wouldn't take five years. He wouldn't be surprised if it happened within the next two years. In five years she might give the First Enchanter a run for his sovereigns. Malcom Hawke must have been a very powerful mage himself to pass his gift so strongly to his daughter. How he had managed to stay free of the Circle for so long was anyone's guess. Anders had been dragged back six times because of his magical strength. Kattrin's father could have been elected First Enchanter and he knew that the Templars wouldn't have let a mage like that slip through their fingers.

If Kattrin was ever caught by the Templars, they wouldn't let her go. She would be Harrowed immediately and groomed for Enchanter status, but the Templars would always suspect her of being a maleficar. He clenched his hands. He couldn't let that happen.

Anders sighed. He found himself being drawn to her more and more as his respect for her grew. He needed to work harder at keeping himself under control around her. He could already count on one hand the number of times he'd almost taken their shared affection too far in the few weeks they'd known each other. Even though she was the kind of mage he'd only dreamed of meeting, it was too late. He had Justice and the plight of the mages to contend with. His path and purpose were clear. He wouldn't be able to dedicate himself to her the way she deserved. She deserved a man who could give her and her children a home to live in safety and security. She deserved the kind of man her father had been. She deserved better than the little he could give her.

He walked her home, declining her entreaties for dinner, and then quickly retreated back to his clinic in Darktown. He lit the lantern before softly closing the door. Bone weary, he leaned his forehead against the wood, sighing. Maker, why now? If only he'd met her before Justice this might have all turned out differently. Shuffling across the floor, he rubbed his face, scratching along his stubble. He slumped backward into his cot, throwing an arm across his eyes. He really needed a patient to walk into the clinic right now. Duty would pull him away from his dangerous thoughts of Kattrin Hawke and the what if's of a different past.


	11. Chapter 11

Kattrin made her way to Darktown with her laden basket of food. Many of the people in the sewers were hungry and eyed her as she passed, but they knew she was bringing food to the healer and so they let her pass unchallenged.

Ever since their foray to the Wounded Coast a couple of days ago Anders had been avoiding her. She was hoping that some fresh baked muffins and the rare find of a Fereldan ham would give him a reason to share a meal with her instead of shuffling her out of the clinic. And if that didn't work, she had a diamond up her sleeve.

Although not helping in the clinic had given her extra time to work toward earning her way into the Deep Roads expedition, she missed his company. He was one of only two mages she had befriended. Merrill was sweet but she had a very different view on magic in general. Yes, she'd been taught that spirits were dangerous, but apparently they weren't so dangerous that one shouldn't make deals with them. And every time Kattrin watched her take a knife to her flesh, she was filled with a mix of revulsion and a previously unknown yearning to experience that same power. She had meant to ask Anders if that was normal when exposed to such insular magic but never found the opportunity.

If she wanted to be honest with herself, it wasn't just to see him or to be near him. With the tension between the Templars and the mages in Kirkwall, she simply wanted the company of another mage. It was hard getting her other companions to understand the hardships that mages faced. Even among her friends she had to defend her kind. With Fenris being the exception, they all accepted Anders as the eccentric, opinionated, but ultimately harmless mage. And Merril was the sweet but harmless blood-mage. However, Kattrin Hawke was the leader who's being a mage shouldn't color her judgment. She sighed. _I guess the only people who understand mages are mages themselves._

The door to the clinic was open, so she let herself in. Anders was busy healing a small boy with blood-darkened hair. Placing the basket on the desk, she made her way over to them.

The injured boy had come in with two other boys, either his friends or his brothers. It was hard to recognize familial resemblance beneath the grime of living in Darktown. The taller one, who looked around the age of sixteen, stood with his arms folded, trying to scowl but unable to hide his amazement at watching Anders wield Fade energies. The other boy, who might be eleven or twelve, was mimicking Anders movements. As Kattrin moved closer to the group, she sensed the Fade through Anders, but also sensed it from the impersonator.

Kattrin tapped the boy on the shoulder, startling him. Backing further into the clinic, she crooked her finger at him. He followed.

"Would you like to earn some coin helping out here in the clinic?" she said, keeping her voice low.

The boy made a face. "Ya mean helping sweep and such? Naw."

Kattrin shook her head. "No. I mean helping the healer with patients. Maybe we could even teach you how to make potions."

His eyes lit up at the mention of learning potions. But life in Darktown had taken its toll on this boy. He narrowed his eyes again. "How much? Potions gotta be worth more than a few copper."

"Alright," she hedged. "If you prove yourself useful, I'll pay you a silver for every day you help here in the clinic."

"A silver?" he exclaimed. But his suspicion rose again. "Everyone knows the healer don't have no money. You're tryin' ta cheat me."

Kattrin shook her head, trying not to smile. "I would be paying you, not the healer. My coin provides things for him that the refugees and Lirene can't."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking older than his dozen years. Finally, he nodded. "For a silver a day, I'm your man."

Kattrin shook his hand. "Good man."

When he turned to rejoin the others, Kattrin stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I have some questions before you go."

Turning back to her, he said, "Alright."

Kattrin smiled. "What is your name and when will we see you again?"

"Name's Drew. And I can come back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, then."

The boy went back to the others as the previously injured boy hopped down from the cot where Anders had healed him. Anders ruffled his hair. The three boys gave their thanks and left.

He turned to her as the door closed. "What was that about?"

Kattrin was still looking at the door the boys had departed through. "That boy's a mage."

Anders' eyes widened. "Really?"

Kattrin nodded. "I sensed the ability in him while you were healing. He was imitating you and managed to touch the Fade in the process."

Anders looked at the door, too, concern written across his features.

Kattrin placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I asked him if he would be interested in working for you, making potions and helping with patients. After he expressed an interest, I told him I would pay him a silver a day if he proved to be competent."

Anders chuckled. "You were cheated, sweetheart. You could have offered to feed him a proper meal every day and gotten the same response."

Kattrin raised an eyebrow at him. It was the second time he'd used that endearment toward her. Maybe she was getting under his "I don't want to hurt you" armor. Not wanting to draw attention to his affectionate comment, she poked him in the ribs.

"Meals only get a person so far. Coin gets them further."

He playfully rolled his eyes. "Maker save me from financiers."

"Hey! Mind your tongue or I'll give your food away to the beggars," she mock threatened.

Anders opened his mouth, probably to continue their playful banter, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Kattrin couldn't help but laugh.

"Save your argument. Let's get some food into you before that beast in your belly gets out and devours us all."

Anders laughed as he moved to the desk to discover what breakfast items she had brought today. He pulled one of her mother's blueberry muffins out of the basket and stuffed it into his mouth before removing the other items and laying them on the desk. As usual, her mother had provided quite the spread - muffins, slices of ham, porridge, biscuits, fresh jam, slices of toasted bread, potato hash, and cold milk.

Kattrin detested porridge, so she accepted a bowl containing a portion of the rest of the food. Anders finished off the porridge before stuffing another muffin into his mouth. He then moved items from the basket into his bowl for a second helping.

He had given her his chair so he sat on his stool, devouring his second bowl of food before going for his third. Kattrin smiled. She was still eating her first helping. If Anders didn't have her to feed him he'd be nothing but skin and bone from his Warden's appetite. She started to wonder about the benefits of being a Warden that required such a voracious appetite. He'd mentioned increased stamina previously, but she pushed the thought away.

Kattrin finished her bowl of food, with the exception of her only blueberry muffin, as Anders was finishing his fourth bowl. It would be his last helping. The basket of breakfast was not boundless and all it contained now were crumbs.

Anders swallowed his last mouthful. He pointed at her muffin and asked, "Are you going to eat that?"

Kattrin clutched the muffin close. He was not going to have her blueberry muffin.

"Yes."

He set his empty bowl on the desk beside him, never removing his eyes from the muffin. "Are you sure?"

"You can't have my muffin, Anders. You've eaten three already! This one's mine."

He looked in the basket, eyed the muffin, and glanced at his empty bowl. Then he started looking around the clinic, as if looking for something of value to trade. Well, he wasn't going to win this battle of wills. As quickly as she could manage, she reached into the Fade, pulled a thin tendril of mana, and sent a shower of diaphanous ice crystals at him. He turned back to her, sensing the Fade, only to have snow slowly settle into his hair and the feathers of his pauldrons.

He gave her a wicked grin. "Two can play at that."

Kattrin was suddenly nervous. She didn't sense him touch the Fade at all when suddenly all the hair on her arms and neck stood on end and her nipples pebbled inside her breast-band. The charge lingered a moment longer and then dissipated, leaving a surprisingly intense arousal in its wake. _Sweet Andraste!__Was that a sample of his electricity trick?_

With warmth pooling at the joining of her legs, she retaliated, summoning the barest thread of heat she could manage, causing Anders gasp as his skin became rosy with warmth. All the snow in his hair melted.

Back and forth they went, the coveted muffin forgotten, hitting each other with bursts of snow, warming of the skin, tingling of mild electricity, fine sprays of mist, mild breezes, any spells that could be made small and harmless without being malicious. Finally, Kattrin tried her hand at the electricity trick. Only she failed to put enough force behind it. Anders jumped up, squirming, trying to complain about it tickling between bouts of giggles. Kattrin was soon overcome with her own giggling, fueled by the delightful sounds of Anders' giggling and his spastic dancing.

When Anders resumed his seat, they were both breathless from laughing. Kattrin had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. She noticed that Anders did, too.

Meeting her eyes, Anders smiled and held up his hands in defeat.

"I yield. You can keep your blasted muffin."

Kattrin wiped her eyes as another short bout of giggles seized her. Finding the muffin on the seat beside her, she tore it in half, handing Anders the slightly larger half. His eyes became warm and thoughtful as he accepted half of the last blueberry muffin. His hands brushed hers during the hand off, sending magic-free tingles through her while his soft smile melted her heart. She gave him a small smile in return. Maker help her. She wasn't going to lose her heart to this man.

She had already lost it.

Licking the last of the crumbs from his fingers, Anders stood. He began to gather up the breakfast containers, placing them in the empty basket.

"So, the boy. When is he expected to start helping me?"

His question caught her off guard. The mage boy from earlier had been erased from her mind by breakfast and playful magic. Gathering her thoughts, she said, "Tomorrow. And his name's Drew."

His eyebrows rose. "Tomorrow?"

"If tomorrow doesn't work for you, I can teach him the basics."

"No, no. Tomorrow should be fine." Passing her the basket, he said, "Well, I should get back to it."

He was shuffling her out of the clinic again. Since the clinic was empty aside from the two of them, she played the diamond in her sleeve.

"Actually, I was hoping you could accompany me."

His eyebrows drew down and he crossed his arms. "Kattrin, I should be here in the clinic. I have potions to brew – although I guess that can wait until tomorrow, now." His argument tapered off as he considered more help in the clinic.

"I'll help in every way I can to assist with teaching the boy potions."

Anders eyed her. She knew he was contemplating her being in the clinic more. Wanting to stop him from continuing his gloomy thoughts, she continued.

"I wanted to make good on our bargain. I've learned a lot from you teaching me spirit healing. If we could take another trip out to the Wounded Coast, I could teach you the elemental spells I know along with the non-Circle spells my father taught me."

Anders still watched her with his arms crossed, but his features had softened. She didn't want to push him too hard. He needed to decide to go with her on his own. She still wanted more than friendship from him, but friendship was all he was offering. She was striving to be a good friend. And good friends didn't bully each other into doing things.

Anders sighed, giving her his small smile. "Alright."

They took his secret passage back out to the Wounded Coast. This time the sun was shining and there was a mild breeze bringing the tang of the sea to them. They walked back to the circular area near the water surrounded by ancient walls. Kattrin moved past him to sit on the same crate that he had occupied the last time they were here.

Anders was watching her, making her nervous. She'd never taught magic to any one before, not even Bethany. Her father had always been the teacher.

"Umm…" she muttered, not knowing where to start.

Anders gave his small smile again, making her warm all over as her heart speed up. "You've never been the teacher before, have you?"

Sometimes he was too smart for his own good. She had no idea how he'd come to that conclusion, never mind it being the right one.

She felt her face grow warm. "No," she muttered.

He laughed a short burst of sound. "Then we'll have to work together."

Anders held his hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her from the crate so she was standing before him. He then took a step back.

"Where would you like to start?"

Kattrin looked at him as he continued to smile at her. Where _did_ she want to start? Her mind was suddenly full of all of the things that she could teach him. _Calm down.__Don't get too far ahead of yourself._ She took a deep breath. Then another one. Anders continued to watch her, his eyes dancing as his smile grew.

He was laughing at her! Well, not directly at her, but she had a sudden urge to light him on fire and watch that smile melt off his face.

They would start with fire then.

"Let's start with a firestorm."

Anders rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What?" she asked.

"Go big or go home, eh?"

It was her turn to smile. "Exactly."

"Alright, sweetheart. How do you go about setting up your firestorm?"

Kattrin remembered her father teaching her this spell. They had been in the field after a particularly hard rain to ensure the grass wouldn't catch fire. Slowly, she reached for his hands. Holding one of his hands in each of hers, she pulled mana from the Fade and created a small ball of fire in her right hand, his left. It flickered warmly.

"Your turn."

She felt Anders draw from the Fade as she watched the ball of fire form in his right hand, her left.

Nodding, she said, "Now, we want to pull the fire up from the ground and through us in order to throw it into the sky to rain back down."

Before she could draw on the Fade energies, Anders did. A shimmering barrier formed around them.

"Safety first," was all he said.

Laughter bubbled out of her. It felt strangely intimate while she was holding his hands. Banishing sensual thoughts from her mind, she focused on pulling the small ball of fire into herself. Her hand ignited. Closing her eyes, she drew additional magic into herself and summoned more fire from deep within the earth. Working as a conduit, she felt the mana flow up and out of her, into the air. The fire followed the flow of energy. She opened her eyes as the magic dissipated from her being to see large fireballs raining from the sky, creating small craters in the sand. Kattrin then looked to Anders to see if he followed her magic through the whole spell. His eyebrows were raised, his pupils slightly dilated, and his lips were parted. The sight sent a thrill through her, raising her pulse and causing heat to pool in her core.

The barrier around them flickered and then disappeared. Anders tried to free his fingers and distance himself from her but she gripped his hands. When he looked askance at her, she said, "I need to feel the mana flow through you. If you don't direct the energy correctly, the spell won't have the intended effect."

He looked at the ground instead of her while he pulled his magic from the Fade. She followed his magic, feeling him encourage the fire to lift from the earth but when he tried to pull the fire through himself it came out his fingers. Kattrin released his hands and jumped back, casting ice to dispel the fire.

Anders looked alarmed. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Look." She showed him her hands, revealing unmarred alabaster skin.

"I'm sorry. I've never had a fireball react that way." He scowled while color rose in his cheeks and ears.

Kattrin gave him a broad grin. "If it makes you feel better, I did the same to my father. Only, he didn't react as well as I did." Anders raised an eyebrow as his cheeks crinkled with the beginnings of a smile.

"What was his reaction?" he asked.

"It was spring in Lothering. We went out to the fields after a torrential rain. There were puddles everywhere in the grass and the earth sucked at our boots. When I began casting and my father felt my magic shift, he cast so much ice that I was encased in it and the field was frozen in a two foot radius around me." Anders started laughing, shaking his head. She continued. "He had to defrost me and made me swear never to tell my mother or my sister."

Anders continued to chuckle, smiling generously at her. She grinned back at him.

"And that was just the first time. The second time, he drenched us both with enough water that he could have filled the horse trough. I was sick for two weeks after that."

He smirked at her. "Are you saying you're going to get me sick?"

"Maker, I hope not! I bet you're a terrible patient."

He laughed again. "I believe I've been told that before."

"So," she said, "are you ready to try again?"

He rubbed his hands together using mana to make sparks like striking steel with flint. Kattrin accepted that as a yes.

She walked around him until she was facing his back. Stepping toward him, she snaked her arms along his, softly grasping his wrists as her chest became flush with his spine. She felt him stiffen but ignored it. His feathered pauldrons were soft against her cheeks. He smelled of herbs, leather, wood smoke, and something distinctly Anders.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm following the flow of your magic while being out of harm's way."

His breathing quickened. "Kattrin, I'm not entirely comfortable with this."

"Relax, Anders. I'm not going to molest you or take advantage of you." _No matter how much I want to.__And, Maker, do I want to._

She felt Anders slow his breathing. He took a deep breath as he pierced the veil. Mana moved through him, up through his legs, to his torso, and into his arms. He fought to make the magic continue to coursing upward but he was floundering. Kattrin flexed, lifting his arms skyward as the fire erupted from his hands. She thought they would need to start again when fireballs began raining from the sky. Quickly, she moved from Anders' back to his side, calling a barrier to protect them. She turned to compliment him only to see him gazing upward in wonder. Without thinking, she found his hand with hers and twinned their fingers together. He was so distracted that he squeezed her hand in return.

"Well done," she said softly.

He angled his head at her, looking at her from under his lashes. "I had a good teacher," he whispered. His whisky eyes were full of emotion. He squeezed her hand again before releasing it and stepping away from her. Kattrin released her barrier.

Anders looked over her head at the sky to the west. "We should be heading back," he commented quietly.

She nodded, hoping he wouldn't become aloof after her infringement of the friendship line. She just couldn't seem to help herself when she was around him. Not wanting to upset him by trespassing further, she began to lead the way back to the Undercity.

"Kattrin," he called gently.

She turned to see him standing a good pace behind her, still in the circular clearing. He walked up the path, stopping in front of her.

"Thank you," he said in a low voice.

"You're welcome, Anders." He continued to stand before her, looking torn. She waited patiently, offering him an encouraging smile.

He took a deep breath. "I never really had a knack for the larger elemental spells. And you're the first who succeeded in teaching me." He looked down, seemingly abashed. "I would like to do this again."

Kattrin's heart soared. Trying to tamp down her rising jubilation, she said, "I'm sure we can arrange it. Just let me know when you're free to leave the clinic and we'll work on other spells."

He gave her his small, crooked smile and her heart skipped a beat. Then he walked past her, up the path. She followed him back to Gamlen's home, where he offered her a tender "Goodnight, Kattrin" before leaving for Darktown. She couldn't stop the stupid grin from forming on her face as she opened the door and stepped inside.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay. This chapter fought me. I'm still not completely happy with it but I didn't want to make you wait anymore. :D


	12. Chapter 12

It was two days after Summerday when they set out. It had been barely six weeks since Hawke had befriended him, along with Varric, Isabella, Fenris, and Merrill. It seemed like just yesterday he started following her while she earned the fifty gold required to become a partner in the Deep Roads expedition. In a month and a half he had come to love this woman who put her life on the line to help her family, as well as mages, children, elves, dwarves, everyone she came across. It was a only few weeks of her helping him in his clinic almost daily and becoming as adept a healer as himself. But it was also forty-two very long days of denying the attraction between them.

And now they were leaving Kirkwall as a part of the Deep Roads expedition being led by Bartrand Tethras.

The look on Bartrand's face when he discovered the maps provided several entrances had made Anders grin like a fool. Bartrand had demanded to know where Kattrin got the maps from. So he'd responded that a wizard did it.

Bartrand may be an ass but he could certainly motivate others. Anders had been in high spirits standing in the open courtyard of Hightown, outside of Bartrand's office. His mood had been dampened somewhat by Leandra showing up, worried about both of her children going into the Deep Roads. She was distraught at having lost so much already and unwilling to risk sacrificing both of her children. Both Kattrin and Carver made it clear that they were both going, much to her mother's dismay.

Afterwards, they were outside of the city, away from the Templars, and it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining merrily, accompanied by a cool breeze. They had been walking for a few hours when he turned to Carver.

"Nice day to be planning a trip into the Deep Roads, don't you think?" he said. "The Blight, the dampness, the festering darkness filled with tainted rats..."

"Shut up," Carver growled, scowling.

"You've got a real chip on your shoulder, you know?"

"I've got a big blade on my shoulder, magey."

Anders raised an eyebrow. "Right. Wonder what you're compensating for."

Carver huffed and moved to the head of the procession where Varric and his brother were.

But Anders' levity died as soon as they came to the entrance to the tunnels leading to the Deep Roads. He began to sweat, nausea churning his guts, at the thought of spending the next few weeks being in the dark. Weeks of being in confined spaces under miles of earth with darkspawn all around. He'd had problems with dark, cramped spaces ever since his year in solitary confinement, but his time with the Wardens had increased his discomfort. Darkspawn and other horrible creatures lurked in dark places underground. He knew between the dark, the cramped putrid tunnels, and the proximity to the darkspawn he wouldn't get much sleep this entire trip.

He tried to keep his fear and anxiety to himself but Kattrin was watching him, concern written on her face. He had spent a lot of time with her and she had become his most trusted friend, which is why she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't okay. He had become good friends with Varric, also, but didn't spend near as much time with the dwarf as he did with the beautiful Hawke, so his state of unrest went past the dwarf's notice.

Hawke made her way through the small army of dwarves and humans to stand beside him. She waited until the rest of the party passed to allow them some privacy before she spoke.

"You don't have to do this," she said quietly.

Yes, he did. He couldn't let her go into the Deep Roads alone. No matter how much he detested the Deep Roads, he was a Grey Warden and she needed his help.

"I'll be alright."

He walked away from her to follow the rest of the expedition. He could do this. He would do this, for her. He took large, deep breaths to slow his pounding heart. Kattrin caught up and kept pace with him. Following behind everyone else as they progressed underground, she held his trembling hand until they caught up to the others. He would gladly give himself over to the Void to have the Warden Commander here in the Deep Roads with him.

All eyes were on him, watching him expectantly. Right. He focused on the taint within his blood, checking for the familiar echo. He cleared his throat. "I don't sense any darkspawn nearby."

Bartrand grunted and lead the company on.

They continued down dark and roughhewn tunnels, with him and Kattrin in the lead to provide light. The only break from moving downward in the black and unchanging tunnels was when the entire expedition stopped for meals. There was no sun to judge time by in the depths, but several hours and two meals later, they entered a spacious cavern. Bartrand called for a halt to make camp.

Kattrin, Varric, Carver, and Anders weren't assigned any camp duties so they tried their best to stay out of everyone's way. Anders found a rock to lean against away from the bustle of making fires, settling pack animals, and starting dinner. Kattrin wasn't with their little group. Looking around, he saw that Varric had also found a rock to lean against but the dwarf had pulled out Bianca to start her daily cleaning. Carver wasn't too far from Varric, sharpening his sword and glaring at anyone who got too close. He spotted Kattrin trying to help Bodahn make dinner but it appeared that he just kept her busy talking while he did all the work.

The multiple fires lighting the area and people bustling about almost made him forget they were in the Deep Roads. There was no sign of taint and he still didn't sense any darkspawn. They could have been in a cavern on the Wounded Coast for all its similarity, but the Warden in him knew that he was in the Deep Roads and not in a cavern elsewhere.

At Anders instruction, each person in the expedition was carrying their own water, a few days' rations, firewood, and bedroll in case they were separated from the whole. Trying not to watch Kattrin, he made himself busy by starting a fire for the four of them and spreading his bedroll a small distance from it. Varric and Carver followed suit.

Kattrin brought bowls of stew to Varric and Carver. She went back to Bodahn and returned to their small group with two more bowls. She smiled and handed him a large bowl before sitting on the ground close to the fire. It touched him how considerate of him she was. How she always made sure that he had enough to eat.

He devoured the stew. It was divine after a day of bread, cheese, and dried meat. Varric pulled something from his pack. It looked to be a wine skin. Varric drank deep before passing the skin to Carver, who took a long pull before passing it to Anders. Anders took a sip and was pleased to find that it was honey mead. He took a long drink before passing it to Kattrin. They ate in silence, passing the wine skin between them until the meal was finished.

Anders stood to take Kattrin's bowl, giving her a chance to spread out her bedroll. Gathering Varric's and Carver's bowls, he returned them to Bodahn and Sandal.

Before he could return to their fire, the camp started to chant. They wanted Varric to weave a story for them. Bartrand poked his head out of his tent to scowl and grumble but he didn't deny his men the entertainment. He didn't join in, though, just retreated back into his tent. Varric joined the rest of the encampment for storytelling and Carver joined the crowd. That left Kattrin alone at their fire.

She appeared to be lost in thought. He never expected to be alone with Kattrin among so many people. In the month and a half since he had met her, he tried his best to ensure it was never just the two of them, outside of their teaching sessions. And he had been successful, for the most part. Only on rare occasions, like this one, did he find himself alone with her.

She sat cross-legged on her bedroll, looking into the fire. The coward in him almost joined the rest of the camp to listen to Varric and his stories but, like Kattrin, he wasn't really up for the revelry. And since the Deep Roads was no place to be alone, he joined her by their small fire.

As he sat on his bedding, she looked up at him and gave him a welcoming smile before turning her gaze back to the fire. They were far enough from the rest of the camp that they only heard the occasional muted laughter. The two of them sat in companionable silence watching the fire dance.

Kattrin turned to him, the firelight casting shadows across her heart-shaped face. Her prominent cheek bones shaded her eyes so he couldn't make out that deep sapphire blue. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again without saying anything. Instead, she watched him watching her until she blushed and looked away.

It both pained him and thrilled him when she did that. Didn't she understand that he wasn't the right person to be feeling that way about? But he wasn't able to completely distance himself from her. She was the one bright light in Kirkwall and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

He didn't know how long they sat there in front of the fire, lost in their own thoughts and stealing glances at one another. When he heard Varric and Carver approaching, he cleared his throat.

Kattrin turned her head, spotting her brother and the dwarf approaching. She jumped up, flushed a deep red before muttering something about relieving herself and walking off.

He didn't want to talk to Varric or Carver and decided he might as well try to get some sleep. Anders lay down, pulling his blanket over himself. He wished Varric and Carver a good night before falling into a light sleep.

* * *

><p>Kattrin woke suddenly to find the light from the fire dimming. She'd been dreaming about dark, unseen things chasing her. Still on edge from her nightmare and not wanting to be in the dark in the Deep Roads, she got up to put more wood on the fire. She was shivering by the time she was done. It was cold in the cavern. She moved closer to the fire to warm up.<p>

She was rubbing her hands together toward the flames when she heard a muted groan. Kattrin stood slowly, pulling mana from the Fade. She considered going for her staff, but it was on the other side of her bedroll, away from the fire. Looking around the small camp, she didn't see anything immediately dangerous, just Varric, Carver, and Anders. Then she noticed that Anders was writhing in his sleep.

_He must be having a nightmare. _Her heart went out to him. He already suffered the occasional nightmare above ground. She could only imagine how much worse the nightmares would be here, in the Deep Roads. It saddened her to know that it would only get worse for him as their journey progressed. The deeper they got, the closer to darkspawn they would be, and the harder it would be for the Warden mage to get any rest at all.

Letting her gathered mana dissipate back into the Fade, she took a few steps to where he was tossing and turning, not yet conscious. Kattrin squatted between Anders and the fire, feeling the warmth along her back, debating on how to wake him. She didn't want to startle him and have him wake the rest of the camp. She also didn't want him to incorporate her shaking him or grabbing him into his dream. The last thing she wanted to do was make this more traumatic for him.

While she was debating, he suddenly sat up, sweating, eyes wide, glowing with Fade energy. Noting her proximity to him in his hyper aware state, he quickly scooted away from her. He was breathing hard, his palms stretched out behind him, perspiration glistening on his forehead and upper lip in the fire light. Kattrin stilled, sitting on her haunches. He was holding a large amount of mana and she didn't want to provoke any defensive spell casting. Slowly, the mana drained from him and Anders came to himself, frowning and blinking his eyes repeatedly.

Kattrin moved closer to him, slowly and carefully. She sat on the end of his bedroll, between him and her own bedding. Folding her legs under her, she tried to formulate how to ask him if he was okay since he was so obviously not.

Anders leaned forward to sit properly rather than sprawling crab-like in the dirt. Softly, he asked, "Did I wake you?"

Shaking her head, she matched his whisper, "No. I had a bad dream. I was putting more wood on the fire when I heard you tossing in your sleep."

He looked down, fiddling with a stray piece of string from his blanket. "Sorry."

There were moments between them where they were the best of friends, speaking to each other without filtering their thoughts and enjoying each other's company. Then there were other moments like this, where they were awkward around one another, their speech broken by thinking, each choosing their words carefully so as to not make the other uncomfortable. She sat there, struggling to think of a way to ask him if wanted to talk about his nightmares, about his being a Warden, about his time in the Deep Roads. Surely talking would help him? Curiosity and compassion warred within her. On the one hand, she was burning to know more about his time with the Wardens and why he hated the Deep Roads. On the other, she knew getting him to talk about his past would help him. But bringing up his past would make him uncomfortable and she didn't want to add to his discomfort.

"Anders…" she started before trailing off. He watched her fiddle with her hands in her lap. She surprised herself by just blurting it out. "Anders, why are you here?"

His demeanor went from hurt to neutral to angry so fast she might have imagined his pain. But she knew him better than that. His reaction told her that he was here for her and for no other reason.

"This expedition needs me. I'm the one who provided the maps detailing this portion of the Deep Roads. Also, as a former Warden, I'm the _only_ Grey Warden you will find to help you traverse the Deep Roads."

Kattrin shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way." She looked at him, at the anger dissipating as he gave her an agonized look. "I know how hard this is for you. I want you to know that I appreciate the hardship you're enduring to help this expedition. To help me."

* * *

><p>Anders felt his anger bleed away as he watched the living light play over her features. The strong and courageous woman he knew looked so small and helpless here in the Deep Roads. <em>She is a mage and far from helpless, <em>Justice reminded him.

Ignoring Justice, his heart clenched at her concern for him. He knew the effects of the Deep Roads on the Warden part of him. The growing nightmares, the scratching sensation of the darkspawn, and the song of an Archdemon slumbering, pulling him and the darkspawn to begin another Blight. He gave himself a mental shake and focused on the woman before him, watching him with sad eyes.

Pulling his water skin from his pack, he motioned her to move closer. He took a long pull from it as she settled herself. He then passed the water skin to Kattrin. She took a protracted drink and Anders watched as a single rivulet ran from the corner of her mouth, down the side of her face and neck. It changed directions at her clavicle before falling into her cleavage. Blast. He shouldn't have been watching her so closely. Everything she did turned into a sexual torment for him. And it would be difficult to find alone time down here in the Deep Roads. He needed a distraction.

"How are you faring?"

She ran the back of her arm along her mouth and passed the skin back to him. With a small, childish thrill of placing his lips where hers had been moments before, he took another drink before putting it away. "I'm not sleeping well. I know now why you don't like this place."

He curled his lip. "Sweetheart, you have no idea," he growled.

She looked at him. "You're right. I don't really know what's down here and I don't know about the things you've seen or endured down in these depths," she admitted. "I've encountered a few darkspawn but it was above ground with the sun in the sky. I had the advantage. But down here, in the dark, this is their place. You've seen what lives here. I may not know the full extent of the evil in these depths, but I do understand that we need to be vigilant and careful."

"Extra careful." He didn't mean for his voice to be so stern but he couldn't tamp down his fear. She was here, in the Deep Roads! Even her life as an apostate couldn't prepare her for the horrors of this place. He hated everything about the Deep Roads – the dark, the confinement, the fluidity of time, the corrupted lurking around every corner. And he needed to instill some caution into her. What if she contracted the Blight? His heart began to race.

"I want you to be constantly observant of yourself. If you get splattered with darkspawn blood, clean it off as soon as you can. Try not to get any in your mouth, but if you do, for the Maker's sake, spit it out - don't swallow it!"

He was practically whisper shouting at her. The idea of her being in this place and facing darkspawn was almost more than he could bear. He tried to calm himself down but his heart continued to pound in his chest.

"I promise to be careful," she said.

"You need to tell me if you experience any changes in how you feel."

"I will," she agreed.

"I need to know if you develop any discoloration in your skin or eyes."

She placed her open palm on the side of his face. "Anders," she said gently.

He closed his eyes and took deep, cleansing breaths, slowing his heart rate and lowering his rising alarm. Calmer now, he removed her hand from his cheek and held it in his own. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to be here. I don't want you to see the horrors that live in this place. And I couldn't bear to watch you succumb to the taint."

"I'll be alright. I have you to watch out for me. And I have seen some of the signs of the Blight." She paused. "While we were fleeing Lothering, we came upon a warrior woman and a Templar. The warrior woman was Aveline and the Templar was her husband, Wesley. He was badly wounded from a wave of darkspawn just before we happened upon them, but he still had enough fervor in him to be upset about two apostates saving him." He listened to her raptly. Her story was a welcome distraction from his anxiety. And this was the first time she had spoken about her journey from Lothering to Kirkwall. He knew that she had faced an ogre, which had killed Bethany, but he had no idea that this is where she met Aveline. Well, this certainly explained the inexplicable bond that they shared. Wait, did she say a _Templar_?

"Aveline's husband was a Templar?" he blurted. She gave him a reproachful look. He hadn't intended to focus on that little tidbit and instantly wished he could take back his words. Quickly, he backtracked, waiving his free hand in the air. "No, I'm sorry. Please continue."

She was looking into the fire when she continued. "I didn't know it at the time but the grievous wound he took from the darkspawn blade had already given him the Blight. We all saw the signs because he quickly succumbed to the taint." Her face was grim in the firelight, but then she turned to him and smiled. "Aveline defended him against frightening odds. She had his shield and her own blade, holding up Wesley while fighting the darkspawn, telling the creatures that they couldn't have him. I knew in my heart that she would defend my family with the same fire. She and I are alike that way. We both go to great lengths to keep our loved ones safe."

Kattrin considered him for a stretch before she blushed and turned her gaze to Carver. He sighed. She was stubborn. Hopefully he would be able to persevere in the face of her infatuation. She deserved so much better than him. And, no matter how much it hurt him, he would make her see that. Justice agreed.

She smiled. "Bethany made a comment about the Maker having a sense of humor, sending first the darkspawn and then a Templar."

Anders smiled, too. Kattrin always described Bethany as a sweet girl with a subtle fire. He wished that he could have met the other female mage of the Hawke brood.

"Wesley stated that mages were always an unknown and his duty was clear but Aveline convinced him that the Maker understood. He agreed that amidst the darkspawn was not the time for pursuing mages. Bethany quipped that since the nice Templar was postponing his hunt for apostates that we should continue on." She sighed. "Maker, I miss her."

He reached across to squeeze her hand. She offered him a sad smile before continuing. "I healed the Templar, but I didn't have your talent with healing, yet. He lost the use of his sword arm, so he stayed back from the fighting, usually with Mother, but he wasn't with her when…"

Kattrin's breath started to come in short bursts. "After the first wave… Bethany…" Tears poured out of her eyes. He tugged on her hand, pulling her into his lap where he enfolded his arms around her, trying as best as he could to console her. She sobbed quietly into his coat. He knew this part of the story; this was where the group was confronted with an ogre, the largest and strongest type of darkspawn. Kattrin had told him that the ogre grabbed Bethany and that had been the end of her. Anders had seen ogres in action and knew that Bethany's death had been gruesome in addition to being traumatic. Kattrin was clutching the front of his robes, racked with silent sobs. He held her, smoothing her hair back and speaking soft words of comfort, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright.

Slowly, she came back from her grief, her face and eyes swollen and wet. Anders continued holding her with one arm while he fished in his pouch with the other. Pulling out his clean handkerchief, he gently dabbed at her eyes before handing the cloth to her. She hiccupped a thank you before making a valiant effort to clean up the aftermath of her tears.

He continued to hold her to him while her breathing quieted. Justice, for once, was quiet and reserved. Sometimes Justice recognized Kattrin as a mage who had experienced the injustices of being born with magic. Other times, he ignored her being a mage and contended that Anders' obsession with the girl was intolerable. Anders pushed thoughts of Justice away and concentrated on comforting this brave woman in a rare moment of weakness. He also tried to ignore signals from his body telling him how warm and soft she was and how good she felt in his arms.

Kattrin began moving away from his chest so he loosened his hold on her. Her face was still red and swollen but she was calm. She remained in his lap and even though his legs were numb and his backside protested against the hard ground, he wasn't ready for her to move away from him. Justice began to grumble his dissatisfaction at the situation.

"I'm sorry," she muttered hoarsely.

"Shhh. You've no need to apologize," he said gently.

She gave him an unhappy smile. "I meant to tell you about the Templar being affected by the Blight, not about losing my sister."

Her chin trembled slightly but no new tears sprung forth. He continued to loosely hold her, enjoying her closeness against his better judgment.

She held his gaze for a moment before saying, "Thank you."

He reached to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. _I'm here for you. Whatever you need. _He managed not to voice the words. They were progressing in their friendship and this chaste physical contact between them was as far as he could allow things to go. The more he kept his want for her hidden, the easier it would be for her. Eventually her infatuation with him would wane and she would move on to someone better.

Then, as she was wont to, she pushed the boundaries of their friendship by leaning into him, her eyes intent on his lips. Even though Anders burned with desire to feel the touch of her lips against his, his willpower held and he leaned away from her, turning his head toward the darkness. Justice was reaching the end of his tolerance. "Kattrin," he warned.

Kattrin gave a rueful sigh before leaving his lap and moving away from him. He felt the chill of the cavern with the loss of her heat. Maker, he wanted her but he knew better. He treasured her friendship because they couldn't have more, couldn't _be _more, but he was selfish and couldn't bring himself to be without her entirely. No matter how much it hurt him, he would maintain the boundaries of their friendship. He would continue to warn her how dangerous he was, for her own good.

She stood, looking into the fire again. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I shouldn't have…" She sighed again and looked at him, abashed. "We should try to get some sleep. Good night, Anders."

She lowered down onto her own bedroll, facing away from the fire and looking out into the darkness.

"Good night, Kattrin. Fade gift you sweet dreams." His words were the barest breath, spoken but not meant to be heard.


End file.
